Vindication
by L4zyD5zy
Summary: "Where did you learn such magic? TELL ME!" Uther knows. His reaction isn't entirely what Merlin expected, it's much more sinister. Starts in S3E1, then AU. Whump.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.**

**A/N Starts in the present, then flashback to Season 3 Episode 1: Uther has been hallucinating due to the mandrake root and confined to bedrest. Various scenes in this episode will be altered slightly.**

_**present**_

"Gaius?" Merlin lifted his head off the cold dungeon floor. He tried to shift from his stomach onto his side, chains clinking behind him as he moved.

"Oh my poor boy," Gaius rushed over and knelt down next to Merlin as the guard opened the cell door. He helped Merlin into a sitting position and tried to look around for injuries.

"I'm not hurt," Merlin assured. "Just…restricted." Gaius leaned Merlin forward and looked at the manacles binding his arms together in the back. They were carved with unmistakable symbols of the Old Religion. A matching set was connected to his ankles.

"In more ways than one," Gaius's brows furrowed. Merlin's head jerked suddenly and his feet began scraping frantically back and forth against the floor, as if he were trying to push himself further into the wall. Gaius turned around to see Uther standing at the cell door, which was still slightly ajar.

"Give him some water," Uther walked over and held out a waterskin, face expressionless. The old physician took it reluctantly. Merlin had stopped moving but stared up at Uther apprehensively, heart thumping like a jackrabbit. Gaius popped the cork off and gently held receptacle to Merlin's mouth. The warlock however, catching a whiff of the fumes, felt his magic bubble up and want to lash out against the offending substance.

As if expecting this reaction, Uther swooped down just as Merlin's neck muscles tensed. Gripping the boy's chin so he couldn't turn away, Uther shoved the waterskin into Merlin's mouth and forced him to drink. Gaius looked on in shock as Merlin's upper body convulsed, unable to cough with the offending item rammed in his throat. Finally Uther released him and let the gourd clatter to the ground, stepping back. Merlin's eyes were red and watery as a result of the choking. He closed his eyes and took a couple of shaky breaths, but suddenly popped his eyes wide open. Something was wrong. Merlin's eyeballs looked like they were bulging out their sockets and he began to thrash about.

"Sire…what-what did you do to him?" Gaius gasped in horror.

"If you want it to stop, you'll do as I command," Uther leant down and whispered a couple words in Gaius's ear.

"No…" the old physician tried to shake his head weakly.

"THEN I'LL LET HIM SUFFOCATE TO DEATH," Uther's voice boomed.

Panicked and upset, Gaius squeezed his eyes shut, "Please, give him the antidote."

Uther took out a vial from his belt, "He'll throw up the hemlock, but the hallucinogen is already in his blood. If he's as powerful as you say, then you'll need it to help you with the enchantment."

Gaius nodded numbly as Uther knelt down and gripped Merlin's chin again, this time to empty the vial of emetic into the boy's mouth.

* * *

_**a week ago**_

"Ygraine…" Uther shuddered in his fitful sleep. Merlin walked over and put a potion bottle on Uther's bureau. As he pulled the blankets up further he thought he heard a dripping noise. Kneeling down to investigate, he saw a black tar-like substance on the ground.

_Clack clack clack clack._

Footsteps in the hallway advanced towards Uther's chambers. Not knowing exactly why, Merlin instinctually scooted under the bed to hide. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when his face brushed against a large root that was covered with the same tar-like substance. Someone reached their hand down to grab the root and yanked it out from under the bed. Merlin scrambled over to the other side of the bed to catch a glimpse of who this person was, and saw none other than the Lady Morgana. This was not looking good. As Merlin got up to follow her with a sinking feeling, he thought of his last interaction with her.

_"Morgana?"_

_"Merlin," Morgana smiled sweetly._

_"I uh, wanted to say thank you," Merlin stared down at the handful of purple wildflowers he was clutching. Shifting his gaze to look up at her, he continued, "it meant a lot…to me."_

_Morgana watched him, but didn't say anything. The early morning rays stole through the curtains and danced across her face—she looked just as radiant as the day Merlin met her. Merlin looked back down at his flowers, then up at her, and scratched his head. As if suddenly remembering what he was there for, Merlin held the flowers out to her._

_Morgana chuckled lightly and walked over, "They're beautiful." She gathered the bundle in her arms and sniffed. "You've always been such a good friend."_

_Merlin managed a weak smile, pangs of guilt flickering as he remembered Morgana's anguished face when she realized he'd poisoned her._

_"MERLIN!" Arthur shouted from down the hallway._

_Merlin rolled his eyes, "Um, yeah…I-"_

_Morgana laughed, "You better go see what he wants." Merlin grinned at her, then jogged out of the room to see what Arthur was complaining about._

Morgana was standing in a clearing now. Merlin's last bit of hopeful denial melted away as he saw Morgause ride into the clearing atop a white horse.

"The city of Catha has pledged their help, and multiple Druidic communes have volunteered members that still practice sorcery," Morgause swung her legs and jumped off the horse.

"I don't want to give him a quick death, after what he's done to the people of this land," Morgana said.

"After we take the city, he will be dethroned and put on trial for his crimes. How has the mandrake root been working?"

Morgana gave a mirthless laugh, "That wretched old man is finally coming face-to-face with the nightmares of his past." She paused, "But Arthur won't be harmed, will he?"

"True greatness sometimes requires severity, sister."

Morgana nodded slowly, then whispered something in Morgause's ear. Merlin tried to lean closer but suddenly found himself being slammed against a tree.

"Seize him," Morgause directed at her guards.

Merlin dug his fingers into the dirt and tried to push himself up but could barely catch his breath. As he struggled to his knees, one of the guards kicked him back down. The last thing he saw was a fist coming towards his face.

* * *

**Dun dun dun, what's gonna happen? How did Merlin end up in Uther's dungeons?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Some more scenes adapted from Season 3 Episode 1, but with my own personal twist! Thanks so much for the reviews, and I hope you enjoy :)**

Merlin opened his eyes and blinked a couple times to bring his vision into focus. Realizing this wasn't his bed he tried to sit up. The metal clinking of chains wrapped around his entire body was mixed with sounds of leaves rustling on the forest floor as he struggled. This drew the attention of two guards who dragged him roughly to his knees.

"What are you doing here?" Morgana demanded, arms crossed.

Morgause stepped over to Merlin, observing him expressionlessly, "He followed you." Merlin tried to clear the cobwebs from his head and assess the situation—Morgause's eyes seemed to bore right through his skull. _Do you have magic?_ Morgause's voice sounded in Merlin's head. She was testing him. Merlin tried not to react or respond.

"Why would you think that sister?" Morgana seemed put off. "He tried to kill me." She then walked over closer to Merlin and glared down at him, "Don't look so surprised Merlin, did you really think I had forgiven you? Like a couple of raggedy flowers could make up for what you did."

Merlin was panicking. If Morgause weren't around, perhaps he'd be able to talk with Morgana and they could resolve the situation. "Morgana, I'm sorry. I told you yesterday, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to."

Morgana made a look of repulsion and turned away. Morgause knelt down and crouched next to Merlin, uncomfortably close to his face. "How did you know to poison her?"

Merlin shifted his weight and didn't answer. Suddenly his chains began to glow and tighten as Morgause chanted, _Weorc untoworpenlic_. Morgana seemed hesitant, "Are you going to kill him?"

"Not I, sister. He shall be judged and punished by the Old Gods for poisoning you. An eye for an eye, it is the Old Way."

* * *

"We've had reports that citizens of Catha and other Druidic peoples have been gathering recently. They and a number of mercenaries are streaming into Cenred's kingdom," Sir Leon looked to Arthur, but the prince made no move to answer. Instead he sat quietly at his father's bedside, clasping the old king's hand in his own.

"Rumors are spreading about the king's state of health, and Camelot's enemies may be preparing to attack," Gaius added.

Another knight rushed into the room, "Permission to speak?" Leon nodded. "Sire, the patrol says a force of 30,000 men has departed from Cenred's kingdom. They are marching towards Camelot."

Arthur sighed, "That outnumbers us by three to one."

"What would you like to do?" Sir Leon asked.

Arthur's lips pressed into a thin line, "We must prepare the city for siege."

* * *

_Abricaþ benda!_ Merlin's panic had accelerated into full-blown hysteria. He'd underestimated Morgause's magical abilities and wasn't making any progress on freeing himself. Thousand-year old trees with thick black trunks and twisted branches crowded together, shivering in the wind, creaking and groaning. Something screeched ominously, echoing through the forest. Making out the tip of a poisonous tail pincer not too far off, Merlin started hyperventilating and tugged at his bindings.

_Isen fæstnunga onlucan me!_ The chains glowed but did not budge. Multiple tail pincers were visible now. An entire horde of Serkets was advancing on him from every direction, snapping their claws excitedly. Trying to slow his frenzied breathing, Merlin took a deep breath.

_Min strengest miht hate þe tospringan! _Still no use, but there was no time to dwell. Eyes darting back and forth, Merlin tried to assess how many Serkets there were. He direly wished that there had been more time to learn formal spells and gain control of his magic during his time in Camelot, but with a master like Arthur there was virtually no time to do anything else. Merlin spewed forth any spells he could remember to try fending off the Serkets. Unfortunately, his training and experience level were vastly inadequate at this point in time.

"AHH!" Merlin yelled out as one of the creatures stabbed their pincers into him. His raw instinctual magic burst out and flung the scorpion off. But Merlin knew this was the beginning of the end for him. _An eye for an eye, I get it._ He laughed morbidly as he thought of Morgause's words. Feeling truly desperate, he bent over, then flung his head to the sky and roared out a command in his dragonlord tongue.

_Ω δρακον, έάω μαλερός σοφόνους φθέγγομαι τείδε άναδικέω!_ This final act sapped him of his remaining strength and Merlin collapsed onto his side. _This is it,_ he thought and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Sire, it seems that most of the forces have stopped at the outskirts of Camelot. A small band of about 20 or so people is making their way towards the city though," Leon reported to Arthur.

"What is it they want?" Arthur asked.

"They request admittance to the citadel. They…have the Lady Morgana."

"What? Is she alright?"

"She appears to be fine…" Leon replied.

"Let them into the throne room, but ask them to surrender their weapons. If any harm comes to Morgana, I'll make them regret it." Leon bowed and hurried out. Arthur turned towards his father, whose gaze was still out of focus, and shook him "Father, you must wake up! Morgana is in trouble!" Arthur knew deep down this was to no avail, and finally set his father down gently. Then he straightened up and hardened his expression. Camelot could not be without a leader.

* * *

The sound of wings flapping drew Merlin out of his semi-conscious state. A shadow passed across the starlit sky. Suddenly Merlin was surrounded by a wall of flames. "Kilgharrah…" he croaked.

As the Serkets scuttled away, Kilgharrah dimmed the flames. "Young warlock, you have been injured."

"Can you heal me?" Merlin grimaced.

"I can cast an enchantment, but healing will take time," the dragon said gravely. At the warlock's nod, he roared and a blue light emanated from Merlin body. The chains snapped off and his midsection lifted off the ground slightly. When the light faded away, Merlin slowly rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up. "You must wait," Kilgharrah warned.

"I don't have time," Merlin winced in pain as he took a wobbly step, "Camelot's in danger, Arthur's in danger." Craning his neck, he looked up at Kilgharrah, "Care to give me a ride?"

* * *

"We ask for a peaceful surrender, and demand only that Uther be produced. He is to answer for his crimes!"

Arthur sat in his father's chair in the throne room, looking quite imposing with his grave expression and silence. His composure faltered however, as Morgana walked forward. "Arthur, you have seen first-hand Uther's cruelty. You know he was wrong, you've said so to me."

"We have three times more troops than you do here in Camelot, you cannot win," Morgause pointed out coldly.

"We don't want a bloodbath, only justice…and vindication," spoke a lanky boy with light brown hair.

"This is Mordred," Morgana pointed at him, "do you remember? Arthur?"

"This is treason!" Leon exclaimed and the Camelot guards all tensed, hands on the hilts of their swords. Mordred and the other dozen or so sorcerers flashed their eyes. Metal crashing against stone echoed throughout the chamber as the soldiers were thrown onto the ground.

Arthur curled his fingers into a fist. Morgause stepped closer to the throne and lowered her voice, "Even without the army, you and your pathetic kind are at our mercy. Anger the Old Gods and you shall taste their wrath!"

"NO! Ygraine!" Everyone turned around. Standing in his sleeping robe, looking as pale as a ghost, was Uther. The corner of Morgause's mouth curled upwards.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Almost full circle, promise! Thanks for hanging on, I'll make it worth your while.**

Morgana's hand flew out and sent Uther flying into the air. He cried out in shock as he hit the floor. The once dignified man now looked broken and pitiable, slumped on the ground. Face frozen in utter horror, he kept pointing at thin air, "Ygraine!"

"Morgana!" Arthur shouted angrily and stood up. Morgana however, could not see or hear anyone else. This was her moment in the spotlight, her chance to unleash the pent up frustration and fear she'd been living with for so long.

"Stay where you are," Morgause held her palm up at Arthur, then curled her fingers. Arthur's body went rigid and he fell back into the chair. Unable to move, he could only glare at Morgana. Morgause walked over to Uther, "Don't you dare utter her name."

"Arthur, he lied to you. He lied to me. He lied to all of us! To this kingdom!" Morgana spat.

"And what do you call your actions?" Arthur growled. Morgana looked stung; she glanced at Morgause for comfort. The blonde sorceress however, was busy directing her men to drag the court genealogist into the center of the room.

"You are Geoffrey of Monmouth?" Morgause placed the tip of a sword beneath his chin.

"Y-yes," the terrified man replied.

"Then you know the truths to which we refer. You will go to the library and bring us the papers documenting the parentage of myself, Morgana, and Arthur. It is time to shine a light on the hypocrisy of your false king!"

* * *

_Arodscipe ágief me! [1]_

Merlin tried out a variety of additional incantations to supplement the spell Kilgharrah had cast. They helped him feel mildly better, but he knew it was short term, like covering a wound with temporary bandages. Time was the only thing that was going to actually heal him.

"We are almost at the clearing near the castle, Merlin. That is as far as I dare go," Kilgharrah said. Merlin didn't reply, he was trying to see if he could establish a mental link with Gaius.

_Gaius._

Silence.

_Gaius_.

Merlin was about to give up when he heard a faint, tentative reply. _Merlin?_

_Gaius! Yes, listen, this is very important. I need you to retrieve my staff and meet me in Uther's bedroom._

There was no response after that, and Merlin could only hope his message was transmitted.

* * *

"Arthur Pendragon, son of King Uther and Queen Ygraine. Morgause, daughter of Sir Gorlois and Lady Vivienne. Morgana…daughter of…Sir Gorlois and Lady Vivienne," Geoffrey faltered.

"No," Morgause bellowed at him. "Those are the corrected papers. What do the originals say?"

"My lady, please…"

Morgause stalked over and snatched the paper from the old man's trembling hands. "Citizens of Camelot, citizens of this great land of Albion, mark this day. For this is the day you learned who was the true heir to the Camelot throne. She is a daughter of magic who will bring prosperity and justice back to this land, she is the one true ruler, who shall slay the evil that her father wrought. SHE IS MORGANA PENDRAGON, DAUGHTER OF KING UTHER AND LADY VIVIENNE!" Stifled gasps could be heard through the crowd. Gaius meanwhile, slipped out of the throne room quietly. The sorcerers had paraded Uther to the front of the room, and made him kneel in front of the throne. Arthur was being forced off the throne however, and Morgana was being ushered on.

"The honorable Lady Ygraine, good friend of my mother, Lady Vivienne, was betrayed by Uther, who sought magical assistance in the creation of his son. His own shame made him condemn magic and slaughter our people. Is this your one true king? Or his son, who has been raised in his likeness? NAY! There is a great prophecy, of the one true ruler who will unite all of Albion and bring magic back into our land, who will be aided by a powerful sorcerer. This ruler is the Lady Morgana, and I, her sister, the powerful sorcerer!" Gaius shut the door behind him just as one of the men next to Morgana unrolled a piece of parchment and began to list off Uther's various crimes. With the greatest speed his old body could muster, Gaius rushed to Merlin's room and grabbed the large wooden staff [2] from under Merlin's bed. As he made his way towards Uther's bedroom, he swore for a moment that he saw the Great Dragon flying off into the horizon.

"Gaius!" Merlin was limping towards Gaius from the other side of the hallway.

"Merlin! What happened to you?"

"Long story, no time to explain," Merlin wheezed, he seemed out of breath. Kicking the doors open, Merlin hobbled over and ripped the mandrake root out from beneath the bed. Gaius recognized the it immediately and pointed at the fire, to which Merlin subsequently flung the root.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

At that exact moment, Uther suddenly seemed to snap out of a trance. His gaze centered on Morgause.

"—execution Thomas Collins, son of Mary Collins [3]. Execution of Cerdan, father of Mordred [4]. The slaying of our great Druid leader Aglain [5], may his soul rest in peace."

A younger boy, standing next to Mordred stepped forward and pointed at Arthur, "What about his sins? He and his men led a raid that slaughtered an entire Druid camp. They drowned my brother in a well [6]. Now his spirit can never be in peace." Arthur's expression did not change, but after a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes, followed by sorrow.

"He was acting under Uther's orders," Morgana justified.

"My sister is correct," Morgause affirmed, "Uther is the root of all these sins. And only the atonement of the perpetrator can bring these countless spirits peace [6]."

As Morgause neared Uther, sword in hand, the great throne room doors slammed open. "Let him go," Merlin commanded. The blue crystal on his staff began glowing and Merlin's eyes became golden. "YOU WILL NOT HARM THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING OF CAMELOT," voice thundering as he raised the staff up high. A fierce wind whipped up in the room and Merlin brought the staff crashing down, which sent a wave of power rippling through court. Everyone in the room was thrown to the ground.

"Where did you learn such magic? TELL ME!" Morgause screamed as Morgana ran to her. Merlin, now thoroughly drained, was clutching onto his staff for support, gritting his teeth with the strain.

"Don't let them get away! Restrain their magic!" Uther yelled at Merlin. The warlock nodded weakly and held his hand up, but suddenly winced in pain. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? ARE YOU IN LEAGUE WITH THEM?" An unearthly scream emanated from Morgana's throat and a clap of lightning filled the room. In a flash, the sorcerers disappeared. Using the staff as a cane, Merlin staggered towards the front of the room.

"Arthur…ugggnh….are you alright?" Merlin reached his hand out and squinted, his vision slowly dimming. Nobody moved. The warlock blinked rapidly as he tried to maintain consciousness, but being no longer able to do so, he collapsed in a heap just steps from Arthur.

* * *

Merlin opened his eyes and blinked. He was no longer feeling the draining effects of Serket poison, but something felt off. With a jolt, he realized he was lying face-down on a dungeon floor, Camelot's dungeon.

"Gaius says you are a powerful creature." Merlin strained his neck to look up at the voice, which belonged to Uther. "But you cannot break free of these chains. They were crafted specially to contain powerful creatures."

Merlin peered down his shoulder, there were irons clamping his wrists behind his back and more at his ankles. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

"Why did you let those sorcerers get away?" Uther began pacing the cell.

Merlin gulped, "I was injured, Your Grace, I'm sorry."

Uther stopped pacing and narrowed his eyes, "That you were." Merlin tried to keep his breathing steady and followed Uther's renewed pacing with his eyes. "Gaius says you were born with magic, yet you did not knowingly practice sorcery."

Merlin nodded, his cheek scraping against the stone. It was a half-truth, he had begun learning some spells after living in Camelot, but now was probably not the time to be coming clean and debating nuances of magic with Uther.

"You used your magic to protect the realm, and the once and future king," Uther stopped again, "You have served me loyally."

Merlin did a double take. Firstly, Uther knew that people could be simply born with magic, and had executed them in the past regardless. Merlin did not want to dwell on this information. Secondly, Uther thought that _he_ was the once and future king. "Um…"

"But you understand if I cannot simply take your word that you will continue to do so. I want some assurance of your continued loyalty," Uther now crouched down, "A magic-binding oath of fealty, to promise your abilities to the service of your once and future king."

Merlin swallowed, and began slowly, trying to choose his words carefully, "I do swear to honor and protect the once and future king…who is, however, known by the Druids to be the son of Uther Pendragon."

Uther's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

* * *

[1] Spell translation help obtained from Nyxelestia's Dreamwidth website: entry from 10/16/09

[2] Sidhe staff obtained in Season 1 Episode 7: The Gates of Avalon

[3] Season 1 Episode 1: The Dragon's Call

[4] Season 1 Episode 8: The Beginning of the End

[5] Season 2 Episode 3: The Nightmare Begins

[6] Season 4 Episode 10: Herald A New Age

**dialogue from various scenes written with help from Script Line LiveJournal by lika_mikala

**Poor Merlin! Why does he keep having to apologize to everyone? And where's Arthur?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N My goal is to make Uther a bit more creepy and evil than he seemed in the show, but not too far OOC! I know he has a big temper but in these scenes I want to show him in the middle of some scheming (with goading from aggravating Agravaine). If you have thoughts on this, e.g. love it/hate it/find it unrealistic, please let me know! I'd love to hear it, thaaaaaanks!**

**The second part of the chapter is from Merlin's viewpoint, in case that's not clear.**

"Your Grace, I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you in better health. The rumors indicated that you were bedridden," Lord Agravaine bowed his slick, oily head.

"I am grateful for your assistance and support during these last couple days," Uther replied.

"Your Grace, as I understand it, your son's manservant, the sorcerer, he is still incapacitated, at the moment?"

Uther drummed his fingers against the table, "He was in bad shape. I let the servants shower and bandage him up, before applying the old shackles from the Purge."

"Surely, your majesty doesn't plan on extending him clemency? He has broken the law made a mockery of your court!" Agravaine exclaimed. "And yet despite all this, he refuses to swear fealty to you."

"He saved me, and the kingdom. And from what Gaius tells me, he has saved Arthur's life countless times. He exhibits steadfast commitment to Arthur…"

"Well I agree that executing him may not be the proper course of action, but he cannot be allowed to roam free within Camelot's walls."

"Come walk with me, you can help me explain to Arthur some of the decisions we have discussed over the last couple days." The pair walked out Council Chambers towards Arthur's bedchambers. When they reached the door Uther waved to the two guards, who stepped aside.

Arthur stopped his pacing and looked over when he saw his father and uncle entering. "Where is Merlin?" he demanded.

"I assure you he has been given proper medical treatment, but first, we have more important things to discuss," Uther spoke firmly.

"Why can't I leave my room?"

"It's for your own safety, I need to decide what to do with your servant. Your judgment is clouded by your emotions."

"If by emotions, you mean countless experiences that provide ample proof of Merlin's unwavering dedication and loyalty to this kingdom, then yes I have those, but you-"

"Arthur, please, you are still young, and unaware of the darkness in people's hearts. Your father is simply watching out for you," Agravaine chimed in.

Uther walked up to Arthur and put a hand on his shoulder, "I know, son. Merlin, it seems, is very loyal to you. But he is also very powerful, and so we must take measures to ensure he will always remain your loyal _servant_."

Arthur's face was a mixture of horror and disgust. "You're talking about him like a dog!"

"Underestimate the destructive power of magic and you may regret it deeply one day, I do not want that for you," Uther had a pained expression on his face. Agravaine seemed to stiffen briefly, but soon resumed his obsequious persona.

"Your manservant is a whole new level of dangerous compared to anything you've come up against. He never even practiced magic, but was _born_ with it," Agravaine explained.

"So you are punishing him and locking him up for something he has no control over? What _have_ you done with him?" Arthur oscillated between boiling indignation and worry for Merlin.

Uther sighed and continued in a calm voice, "He will be released soon. Your uncle and I have discussed some methods for securing his obedience." Arthur looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel.

"Tell me you don't mean torture."

"Just precautionary measures," Agravaine reassured as he followed Uther out the door. Rushing to catch up with the king, who was now proceeding towards the dungeons, he adopted a casual tone, "Your Peace Treaty [1] with with King Alined still stands as of the present?"

"It does, why do you ask?"

"Well, it seems prudent to consider the possibility that we may not have the necessary skills to extract a binding magical oath from this warlock. King Alined is known to have an extractor who is both ruthless and efficient. His various skills have been used in the past for witchfinding and submitting magical creatures under the control of King Alined."

"You speak of Ramsay? I did at times call upon his skills during the Purge," Uther remembered. "He was second only to Aredian [2]…though of late, there have been some disturbing rumors about him."

"Idle chatter, I'm sure. But if it would set your mind at ease, I could go supervise."

Uther nodded as they began descending the stairs. "How is he?" he called out to a figure crouched in Merlin's cell.

Gaius looked up, eyes glassy, "His pulse is steady. But he convulses every now and then."

"Well some hemlock would have gotten in his system, it's unavoidable," Uther said matter-of-factly. "Guards! Leave us." The guards bowed and unlocked the door for Uther. Stepping inside, the king addressed Gaius while observing Merlin, "Have you cast the enchantment?"

"I have, your Grace. But my magic is old and out-of-practice…" Gaius cautioned.

"The drugs should help to additionally disorient him. Give me the papers," Uther held out his hand, "And wake him up."

_I'm sorry, Merlin_, Gaius thought.

* * *

_Tóbregdan._ [3]

Merlin awoke with a start, "Arthur?! Wh…sshlm…should you be down hurrr?" Arthur stood silently, not saying anything. "Ehm, who-who's that?"

Arthur glanced behind him, then turned back around to Merlin, "He is my mother's brother, Agravaine de Bois, he has come to help us during our time of need. But never mind him, Merlin. I need you to focus on me."

Merlin tried to fix his gaze on Arthur, but his eyes lolled around lazily in his head. "Mmmbafshp?"

"Why is his speech slurred?" Agravaine barked at Gaius.

_Tóbregdan._ Merlin heard Gaius whisper. Arthur's image flickered for a moment. Merlin squinted, wishing he could rub his eyes. "Uther?"

Arthur shot a worried glance at Gaius, "No Merlin, it's me Arthur. Now, can you look at this parchment right here?"

Feeling less woozy, Merlin leaned his head towards the paper Arthur was holding out, "Magical ceremonial oathbinding…punishment for oathbreakers…lifetime oath of fealty?"

"Merlin, the kingdom is in great need. I need you to agree to this vow. Gaius here can perform the ceremony," Arthur urged.

Merlin looked at Gaius, then back at Arthur, "But-but it says I'll be subject to imprisonment in the Mountains of Asgorath and Nathair [4] torture for a thousand years if I break the vow, that-that seems…"

"You have served me unfailingly to this point, there's no reason to think you won't in the future. This is just a precaution."

"I don't-but…wait, Uther?" Merlin cocked his head to the side and was blinking rapidly. Agravaine walked over backhanded the boy.

"Put him back to sleep!"

Gaius obliged. "Sire, is this really necessary? You know that Merlin would never betray the kingdom. He saved your life."

"It is ABSOLUTELY necessary, Gaius. I have been deceived once too many times by people of magic!" Uther's voice raised a couple notches, "These people are like a weed, no matter how many times I try to root them out they keep growing back. This is best possible solution, keeping a powerful one under my control."

Agravaine nodded in agreement, "Shall I arrange for transport to Alined's kingdom?"

"Call for Halig, he is an adept bounty hunter with much experience. We will try the enchantment one more time, but failing that, we can have Ramsay complete this task for us. There are other important matters in the kingdom that require my time and attention."

* * *

[1] Season 2 Episode 10: Sweet Dreams

[2] Season 2 Episode 7: The Witchfinder

[3] Tóbregdan = wake up

[4] Season 4 Episode 13: The Sword in the Stone


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Uwaaa! Thank you guys so much for the reviews! They really spur me to write**

Arthur should have been in shock. After all, in a very short span of time he had learned that Morgana was a traitor, Morgause was Morgana's half-sister, Morgana was _his_ half-sister, and Merlin had magic. But all this was being pushed to the back of his mind at the moment, by the paralyzing fear of what might be happening to Merlin. At first, early on, Arthur hadn't known what to feel regarding Merlin's big secret, but Gaius came to his chambers and discussed the issue at length, providing much-needed answers and explanations. Arthur's anger melted away into empathy and admiration, but was soon replaced by worry for his friend. Gaius pleaded with him to implore leniency from Uther.

"Arthur?" Gaius was knocking.

"Let him in!" Arthur shouted at the irritating guards. Gaius shuffled in awkwardly—his legs numb from kneeling next to Merlin for so long. The old physician was extremely pale, so Arthur had him sit down and poured him a goblet of wine.

"I fear—" Gaius began, but not trusting his voice, took some more sips of wine. "I fear that Merlin's circumstances are not favorable."

"How do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"The king wants Merlin to swear a binding oath to serve him," Gaius took the papers out of his sleeve.

Arthur skimmed the contents, "This is ridiculous, he essentially wants Merlin to sign away his free will. Making him…a slave, more or less." The words tasted filthy in Arthur's mouth.

Gaius nodded, "The ritual cannot be performed without consent of the oath taker." Then lowering his face onto his palms, "I cast an enchantment to make Merlin think he is seeing you when he is really seeing Uther. I've betrayed Merlin, I'm so ashamed." Arthur shook his head and put his arm around the old physician's shoulders. "But my weak magic is not enough to hold illusion very well, and your father grows tired of putting forth this effort."

* * *

Morgana sat listlessly by her sister's bedside in Cenred's castle. Morgause had taken a much stronger dose of damage from Merlin's shockwave, and had only recently made it past the throes of death. The other sorcerers were immensely impressed by Morgana's powerful burst of magical energy, which had saved them all from certain execution. But Morgana felt humiliated and defeated.

_Arthur is the once and future king, who will bring a golden age upon Albion. By his side will be Emrys, destined to be the most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth._ This was full prophecy of the Druidic people. Morgana covered her ears but she could not block out her own self-deprecating thoughts.

"Sister," Morgause mumbled weakly. Morgana took the towel from the bedside basin and put it on her forehead. Morgause grabbed onto her wrist, "Has word come from Agravaine?"

"No," Morgana removed her hand gently, "But what does it matter? It was all for naught."

Morgause's sheets rustled as she shifted, "You must believe in yourself."

"But I am not the most powerful sorcerer, nor the one true leader of Albion."

"And you think that warlock is? He thwarted our plans to restore Camelot to justice, he poisoned you, lied to you, all to defend his false king. It is our duty, our moral mission, to fight."

Morgana walked over to the open window and sucked in the fresh night air, watching as her exhalations formed swirling puffs of mist. Suddenly she felt homesick. She wanted to be sitting on her bed reading a book or laughing about something with Gwen. It wasn't that she didn't feel deeply indebted and connected to Morgause, but her sister was always so serious and angry, constantly bursting into fanatical diatribes about the ills of the world. _Too late to turn back now…_

A raven flew onto the windowsill. _Caw, caw_, it seemed to mock Morgana. "Quick, open the letter," Morgause rasped. Morgana unrolled the tiny piece of parchment. "What does it say?"

Morgana's eyes widened, "Merlin has been thrown in the dungeons and restrained with magic-suppressing tools."

Morgause laughed hoarsely, "That old fool."

Morgana's hands suddenly dropped down to her sides, swinging slightly as the note fluttered from her hands and fell to the ground, "They're sending him to Alined's kingdom to be tortured for an oath of fealty."

* * *

Halig leered at the kneeling form positioned in the cell before the king. The little rat had cost him fortune last time [1], and then put him in bad graces with the prince. Oh it was going to be a fun journey.

"Agree to the oath. Agree or you force my hand," the king was saying to him. The mouthy brat was asking what the king would command him to do if he agreed—Halig snorted in disbelief. The king was growing short of patience, and refused to clarify any further.

Lord Agravaine looked in his direction and pointed to Merlin with his head. Needing no further prompting, Halig stepped out of the shadows and pulled a chain taut between his hands. "Think he's gonna need some more persuasion. Ramsay'll get it out of him. They say Ramsay gets it out of everyone."

Merlin jumped at the sight of Halig and started to shake his head as realization dawned on him, "No…"

"Last chance," Uther warned as Halig slipped the loop of chain around his neck. Merlin was about to say something when Halig violently jerked the chain, causing the slipknot to tighten and constrict against Merlin's windpipe.

"You shouldn'tve stolen from me," Halig taunted as he dragged the boy, gagging and thrashing, along the floor. In between each cruel yank, Merlin coughed and sputtered, trying to catch his breath, unable to loosen the metal noose around his neck.

"Let him stand up and walk! You're going to hang him to death," one of the guards yelled and seized the chain from Halig's hand.

"Arthur!" the king shouted angrily, recognizing his son's disguise. Merlin peered at Arthur blearily, then his eyes darted back to Uther, or wait, was that one Arthur?

"Wait," Merlin was confused. From the corner of his eye he saw Halig grab onto the end of the chain again, "Wait! W-ekhggg!"

"Guards! Remove my son," Uther commanded. "Shh, sh, Arthur, I am not going to execute him, you can have him back soon."

"NO! LET HIM GO!" Arthur saw Merlin's eyes, frantic and pleading, still darting back and forth between him and Uther, "MERLIN!"

* * *

[1] Season 3 Episode 6: Lady of the Lake

**Poor, confused Merlin, he just can't catch a break can he? Perhaps next chapter...**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, I was away at a wedding this weekend. PLUS I wanted to make it reaaaally good. So, please, _please_ review. Ok on with the fic :)**

Merlin was seeing black dots dance across his vision. "You playing dead on me?" Halig's gruff voice was followed by a rough kick to the stomach.

"Unh!" Merlin grunted.

"Stop that, you don't want to kill him," Agravaine glanced around furtively. Everyone else had been escorted from the dungeons and Uther left clear instructions to do the deed quickly and quietly. Merlin felt two hands grip him under the shoulders and lift up. "Can you stand?"

"Water," he asked hoarsely, voice raw from all the choking. Halig harrumphed in displeasure but waited while Agravaine went to retrieve some. Merlin's muscles felt sore and achy from days of disuse, but his mind was actually starting to feel more clear. Gaius had been coming in to feed him constantly over the last week, but couldn't say much under the watchful eyes of the guards. Mental communication was also blocked off from the magic-suppressing cuffs, thus leaving Merlin with no way to figure out what was happening.

"I have some urgent matters that need attending to," Agravaine held the water bowl up to Merlin's mouth. "So I will meet up with you later at the entrance to the Forests of Balor."

Halig nodded, "That's fine. Oh, a couple of my men will be joining me outside the castle…to assist, you know?" Then he gave the hateful chain a tug—just as Merlin was beginning to feel a shade better—"Don't want our prisoner getting away." Stumbling forward, Merlin struggled to maintain his footing despite the ankle chains coming up short. Fettered as he was, walking proved to be frustratingly cumbersome, but somehow he didn't think this mattered to the brute. In fact, this impairment was probably going to provide a source of entertainment and sadistic pleasure during their upcoming travels.

* * *

Morgana sipped a wine goblet and picked at her food aimlessly, dimly perceiving the conversation going on around her.

"We can't let Uther gain control of boy's powers. Agravaine says now would be the perfect time to intercept."

"But Morgause my dear, you are not quite recovered to your previous…magnitude. Would it not be wiser to wait?" Cenred smacked his lips as he feasted on a rack of lamb.

"Do you doubt me, Cenred?" Morgause had a threatening glint in her eye.

"You are very beautiful when you're angry, as always."

Morgana did an internal eye roll, and pushed her chair out from the table, "I'm going to go check on Mordred."

"Sister you barely ate," Morgause noted.

"Not hungry," Morgana averted her sister's gaze and strode briskly out of the banquet hall. Through the dreary stone corridors and up a flight of stairs, she finally reached Mordred's chambers. "Mordred, are you there?" The door creaked open. Mordred sat on the windowsill, staring outside at the evening stars.

"My father once told me that magic was born out of the moon. There used to be two moons, but one of them exploded into a thousand million stars—some of those stars drifted down and embedded the land with magic. From this, the first warlocks and sorcerers were born."

Morgana glided over next to Mordred and leaned against the wall, staring up at the sky, "Cerdan seemed a good father." The night was peacefully quiet, save for the crickets chirping, and the occasional hoot from an owl.

"He's a monster," Mordred whispered, voice barely audible.

"Who?" Morgana asked.

"Ramsay."

"The extractor who serves King Alined?"

Mordred did not respond for awhile. "Ramsay serves no one." Morgana looked over and saw wetness glistening in Mordred's eyes. "He tortures and kills people for fun." At this the boy hastily wiped at his eyes, unwilling to let the tears roll down his cheeks. "Like my mother."

Morgana put her arms around the younger Druid boy and squeezed him tightly. "People of magic have suffered for far too long, and far too much." Mordred shuddered a bit, then stilled.

"He doesn't care whether or not someone has magic, whether they're man or woman, child or grown man. Whoever it is, so long as they've wandered into his hunting territory, he'll kill them for sport."

Morgana withdrew back to her previous position, leaning against the wall, deep in thought. The shadows shrouded parts of her face, making her expression unclear. "Perhaps he had a cruel father." _Like mine_, she thought.

Mordred shook his head, "He was just born evil. That's what the Druids say."

More silence.

"Well, Merlin chose the wrong side," Morgana justified to no one in particular. "He made his bed, now he has to lie in it. He deserves what's coming," but her voice betrayed her words.

* * *

Agravaine quickly skimmed over the letter from Alined. Random words jumped out at him, _erratic behavior_…_gone rogue_…_intercepted_…_broken seal_…_careful_, but it none of it really mattered. He had gotten word to Morgana and Morgause already, who would hopefully make their move to intercept Halig soon. There were more important tasks to worry about at the moment. He slipped back into the castle. Uther should have been in a drug-induced sleep by now. It had been easy, in the end, to poison the king. Morgause provided the paralytic agent in a small vial, and told him to ask Gaius where the arnica [1] was—Uther took this prescription for an old battle wound. The sniveling old physician was too busy tending to Arthur's manservant at the time to be suspicious.

Agravaine glanced down at the beautifully ornate gold dagger that Morgana had delivered to him via one of the castle guards. For some reason it was of great importance to the Lady Morgana that Uther be killed with this particular dagger. Slipping into the chambers he observed the unnaturally still form of the king, his brother-in-law, under the sheets.

"I know you're awake." Agravaine sneered, and lit up some of the candles in the room. Indeed, Uther's eyes were wide open and wild-looking. Advancing towards him, Agravaine raised the dagger up high into the air, and relished the look of terror mixed with anger in Uther's face. "Do you think this must be how my sister felt? When she realized that you'd bartered away her life for a son? Helpless and despondent…"

Uther could not move or speak, but sadness and guilt flashed across his face.

"It's too bad you sent one of the only people who might have found me out away to be tortured. That pesky servant of your son's has interfered with many attempts to kill you."

Uther looked stunned, and was that a hint of regret in his eyes?

"Morgana sends her regards," Agravaine snarled, and in one fell swoop, brought the knife down onto Uther's belly.

* * *

Merlin could feel the wet, goopy mud creeping up into his nostrils.

"I'm gonna make you beg," Halig dug his knee into Merlin's back as he smashed the boy's face into the dirt. For the last couple hours, ever since Halig had met up with his buddies, it had been a non-stop barrage of vicious kicking, taunting, and being shoved to the ground.

"What did you say?" one of the men used his foot to nudge Merlin onto his back, who took the opportunity to spit out some of the mud in his mouth.

Halig straddled him, sitting his weight down Merlin's already bruised stomach. "Where's your Druid girl now, eh?"

"She's dead," Merlin strained through gritted teeth, "just like you will be."

Halig gave a crooked smile, bearing his ugly, yellow teeth, and punched Merlin in the face. "What did you say?" The other men sniggered. Merlin wiggled his jaw, trying to dull the painful throb.

"He asked you a question!" one of the men yelled.

Halig held his fist up, "Need me to ask again?" but he didn't give Merlin a chance before delivering another blow. The whole group broke out in cackles and guffaws as Merlin grunted in pain. Hali curled his hands around the front of Merlin's shirt, "Well?"

"Will you actually let me answer this time?" Merlin glared, the left side of his face starting to swell.

"Go ahead, let him answer, let's see what he has to say," someone laughed.

Seeing Halig smirk and giving a little nod, Merlin took his chance, "Do you really want to test the king's limits on how displeased he has to get before putting your head on a spike? Uther's had people executed for far less than damaging his property." Merlin cringed at having to refer to himself as property, but if it got him out of this never-ending cycle of abuse, then so be it. And indeed, after this warning, Halig seemed to back off a bit, but that wasn't saying much. A lot damage had already been done—Merlin's entire midsection just basically hurt, indiscriminately, inside and out, his neck had become tender and purple, making the choke chain even more unbearable when pulled, half his face had swollen up from the repeated punching. Merlin didn't think he could last another day, let alone two more weeks, which was about the time it was going to take to reach the Forest of Balor. He didn't want to lose his dignity by begging, especially knowing that these men wouldn't show him any mercy regardless, but pain had a way of wearing down a person's willpower.

"Beer! I want some beer," one of the men from Halig's group yelled. His name was Vargo. The others hummed in agreement, spotting a tavern up ahead. The local customers seemed fearful when the group stomped in, many of them shrinking into the corners. "Get us beer!" Vargo barked. Halig pushed Merlin against the wall and made him stand, while the rest of them sat down to drink and eat.

"Sir," a green-cloaked gentleman with curly, thick brown hair walked over. Halig was in the midst of padlocking Merlin's neck chain to a pole. "I can't help but notice your friend here looks a bit under the weather. I'd like to offer him a bowl of pigeon soup."

For a moment it seemed like Halig was looking at a bug he wanted to squash, but the strange fellow held his gaze and stared back with bright blue fearless eyes. Finally, Halig grunted and waved his hand in the air, "Do whatever you want, he'll stay chained right where he is though."

The green-cloaked gentleman set about ordering soup from the innkeeper and having the bar maid bring two chairs over to Merlin. He disappeared from the main dining area only to reappear minutes later with a water basin and wash cloths. Setting the basin down on a nearby table, he helped the bar maid gingerly sit Merlin down on the chair. That being done, he dipped the wash cloths in water and began to wipe away the layers of dirt caked on Merlin's face. "Those are some peculiar-looking shackles."

Merlin nodded. He felt a bit uncomfortable being serviced like this, but he wasn't about to complain after the brutal treatment he'd received most of that day. And he couldn't do much, having the lost use of his hands.

"Here's the soup, Arry," the innkeeper placed the steaming bowl next to the wash basin.

"Thank you, John," Arry replied, then turned back to Merlin and continued with the cleaning. "You have magic, don't you?"

Merlin tensed. It wasn't like he could get in more trouble than he was already in, but over the years he'd developed a habit of hiding this information. "Yes."

"That's why those shackles are so peculiar, they're meant to contain your magic, prevent you from using it."

"Yes…"

Satisfied that Merlin's face was now somewhat visible despite still be streaked with tracks of dirt, he began spoon-feeding the soup to him. "That can be overcome, to a certain degree." Merlin gave him a strange look, but didn't say anything. As he continued to sip down the warm soup, he caught snippets of a conversation from one of the tables closer to the door.

"They still can't find that girl Gilly then?"

"Nay, her poor mother, coming all the way out here from a village at the foot of the Mountains of Isgard. She must be desperate."

"I hear there are reports of missing girls in that area all the time."

Arry continued feeding Merlin the soup until it was gone, "I hope this has helped you in some way. You looked like you needed it."

"It has, thank you." Merlin watched as Arry scooted back and began to stand up. Suddenly the bowl slipped from his hands. Instinctually, Merlin flashed his eyes and tried to freeze the bowl mid-air, forgetting about the shackles. Arry gasped when he saw the bowl suddenly stop its downward descent, but after a split second, the bowl continued its original path and crashed to the floor, shattering to pieces.

* * *

[1] Season 1 Episode 6: A Remedy to Cure All Ills

**Who is this new person? Did Arthur send him? Is Merlin's magic back? AHHHHHHHHHHH**

**Hope you guys like it so far, and don't worry, I do have a plan for where I'd like to go**** with it (*feel like an evil mastermind*).  
****BUT, I really wanna hear from people, how exciting do you find this story so far? Is it boring? Does it feel unoriginal? I know there are a lot of other whump stories out there, some are _extremely_ well-written. It's a lot to live up to, yet I hope to make something new and different. If you guys like it enough, I have an idea for a sequel too :P. Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N You guys are aMaZiNg :O, seriously, thanks for the helpful reviews and words of encouragement. It made me type away furiously to get this next chapter out as soon as possible! And here are my thoughts after having written it: _Ooooooh Merlin, you sweet, _****_kind-hearted, _**amazing person...I'm sorry! I really heart you though, or is it...hurt you? Bahaha

Merlin froze in fear, unsure of what would happen next, but Arry recovered from his surprise quickly, and resumed a nonchalant demeanor. "Silly me, how clumsy." Halig's men were getting raucously drunk and quite oblivious to everyone else in the tavern. Arry motioned the barmaid to come over and clean up the mess. He gave Merlin a little wink, "Your secret's safe with me."

Feeling a seed of hope take root, Merlin began testing his limits, but unfortunately, the magic suppression was still, for the most part, very strong and oppressive—he couldn't even make the dust on the floor move. Merlin kept at it though; the threat of two more weeks at Halig's mercy provided ample motivation. Perhaps, just perhaps, he would be able to break free with continued effort.

* * *

Arthur's emotions were swirling around like waves in an ocean storm. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Merlin's terrified, accusatory eyes, pleading with Arthur as he was dragged away. This was his best friend, his loyal companion, his ever-faithful servant, who was now consigned to a terrible fate because he'd decided to be an idiot and save the kingdom. But the fact was that his own father did this to Merlin, which made it so much worse. You can't truly hate your own father, can you?

There was shouting and commotion outside in the hallway. Sensing that something was wrong, Arthur transitioned into a vigilant mood. "Hey, what's going on?" he went to the door and opened it. The guards were gone; in fact, the corridor was empty. Echoes of clamoring bounced along the stone walls-they were coming from Uther's wing. Arthur kept following along to reach the source of general commotion, but what he saw when he got there stopped him dead in his tracks. Uther was lying on the bed in a pool of his own blood, which was slowly seeping deeper and deeper into the sheets.

"Please, let me through, everyone needs to clear the area," Gaius edged through the crowd.

"He-he's still alive!" one of the guards checked for air movement near Uther's nose.

"Gaius, what do you need? How can I help?" Arthur took on an authoritative tone.

"He's been stabbed multiple times and lost a lot of blood, we need to apply tourniquets. You there," Gaius pointed at one of the guards, "Fetch some of the old clothes in that drawer and begin ripping it into strips. Arthur, go ask Gwen to grab my medicine bag and tell Audrey [2] the head chef that I need a large vat of boiling water prepared. Everyone pick up the pace! The king's life depends on it," Gaius began shuffling about and assembling materials with surprising speed given his age. Arthur felt both alert and distracted—alert because he had clear tasks before him to complete, distracted because even in his father's hour of need, thoughts of Merlin jabbed their way into his consciousnessness. He felt like a bad son.

_CRASH!_

"Ow! Uncle?"

"Yes, yes, I do apologize Arthur, I feel my mind is not quite all here, I just heard about the king…" Agravaine mumbled.

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder, "Gaius says my father may yet survive. I'm sorry I have to get going."

"Of course…" Agravaine's face drained of color, but luckily his nephew was too preoccupied to notice.

* * *

Morgana stood close behind her sister, afraid that should she take a slight misstep, the shadows would drag her off into the never-ending blackness of the cave they were in. Morgause had brought them here to seek counsel from the Dochraid [1], a creature of the Old Religion who had powerful knowledge of the old ways. Morgana resisted the urge to shrink away as the shriveled, decrepit old woman emerged from the dark depths. Her teeth were rotten and decaying, while her hair was brittle and white. Instead of eyes, her sockets were covered with hideous, wrinkly patches of pink skin.

"We come in peace," Morgause announced, reaching her hand out in invitation.

The Dochraid grabbed it and sniffed, "Morgause, it is you. And you bring a new ally."

"Morgana Pendragon," Morgana stepped forward, and allowed her hand to be similarly examined.

"We need your help," Morgause began, "There is a great warlock, Emrys, from the legends of old."

The Dochraid nodded, "He will never be your ally."

Morgause frowned, "I had hoped otherwise."

"But that is not the only way to obtain his help," the Dochraid turned her misshapen head towards Morgana, "The Crystal of Neahtid, you have it in your possession?"

Morgana looked to Morgause, who bade her answer the Dochraid, "Yes," she nodded. "How did you know?"

"I can smell its power on you."

"Sister, take it out."

Morgana complied and opened the pouch hanging on her waist. Placing the crystal on a stone podium she backed away as the Dochraid walked over and began stroking it. "The Crystal of Neahtid was hewn from the Crystal Cave, where magic began," a low moaning sound escaped her throat. "You can borrow his powers by crafting an amulet out of the crystals from that cave. But only Emry's knows of its location. He is the first person to see it since Taliesin, more than 300 years ago."

"How can we siphon out the warlock's power and deposit it into these amulets?" Morgause asked.

"The effects will only be temporary, but Emrys will provide an endless supply of energy. His powers are infinite. Take this medallion, I've embedded the powerful incantation you'll need within it."

Morgause took the coin and turned it over in her palm, "The high priestesses who raised me spoke of such a spell."

"Did they? Then you should recall that, the process of extraction will be one that is excruciatingly painful for Emrys."

* * *

Merlin sat with his back to a tree trunk, watching Halig and his goons dig into a roast chicken that Arry had given them. They were in a sunny clearing where light from above the forest thicket was able to pierce through the trees and reach the ground. Were it not for Merlin's circumstances, he might have found the surroundings beautiful. But for now, he was busy staring down a tree branch above Halig's head.

_Break!_ He willed, but branch just swayed a bit. Perhaps it was the hunger pangs or the general fatigue, he just couldn't gather together the focused effort necessary to perform magic. Halig glanced up and took note of Merlin's concentrated face. Sauntering over, he threw a chicken leg on the ground in front of Merlin, "Hungry?" he asked. Merlin glared back defiantly, but his growling stomach betrayed him. It seemed the pigeon soup had not been substantial enough to hold him over for too long. Halig walked closer and gave Merlin's legs a good kick, before crouching down and picking up a palm-sized rock, "You know how I did in one of your kind? Oh it was a nasty business. And she was such a pretty little thing too…shame." When Merlin didn't answer, he leaned his face in closer, "Stoned her to death. She kept screamin' at first, until, well, she couldn't anymore." Merlin's breathing came quick and heavy, he wouldn't let Halig get to him—but he had never wanted to punch someone more than right now.

"I'm sure that made you feel like a man," Merlin said quietly.

Halig narrowed his eyes, then lifted the rock up high as if to strike Merlin, but it was a feint. He chuckled mean-spiritedly when Merlin flinched reflexively, then smashed the rock into the tree bark, littering the poor boy's face with splinters. Merlin felt angry at himself, falling for such a child's trick, he wasn't cowed by Halig's scare tactics. He brooded over this and other negative thoughts, which was perhaps why it took him longer than usual to notice a change in the surrounding atmosphere. Birds had stopped chirping. The usual hum from insects and creatures in the forest had dimmed down to a mere whisper.

_Fwoosh!_

It happened so quickly that no one reacted at first. As a flurry of arrows found their way into the clearing, the bandits began yelling. "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Vargo screamed in rage. Halig started to stand, but only managed to wobble about before falling down on his butt.

Clutching his head confusedly, Halig shouted, "The chicken, there was poison in the chicken!" Merlin suddenly felt someone tugging at his arms. Turning around, he saw his blue-eyed, green-cloaked friend from the tavern.

"It's you! What-how…?"

"No time to explain! Here, look, I've managed to steal these from Halig, let me unlock you," Arry jingled a set of keys in his hands. Merlin's mouth dropped open—he looked happier than a man in the desert who had just found water. Arry clicked the key into the lock and let out a yell of surprise when he was blown backwards by sudden impact. Merlin's body had exploded with wind and light, not unlike a river gushing forth through a broken dam. He felt the constricting tightness in his chest release, followed by a tingling warmth that crept outwards towards the periphery of his body, all the way until it reached his fingertips. He fumbled with the keys a bit as he tried to quickly unlock the cuffs from his ankles. "Come on, we have to run!" Arry tugged at his arms again. After days of trudging along amongst ruthless, boorish bullies that constantly hurt him, Merlin didn't need to be told twice, but starvation and beatings had taken their toll. He hadn't run too far when, "Wait, wait, slow down. I can't…keep up."

"Look! There's a little abandoned hovel up ahead, come on, let's go. You can rest once we're there," Arry pulled him along.

Merlin stumbled along as fast as he could, also spotting the straw rooftop not far off, with smoke coming out of the chimney, "It doesn't actually look abandoned."

"Oh, I found it before I came to rescue you. So I got some water boiling. Help yourself to some food and a hot bath."

When Merlin finally made it into the hut, he was exhausted and out of breath. Despite that, he was alert enough to feel the hairs on his neck stand up—perhaps the return of his magic was able to keep him on his toes. Something felt odd about the place. "Those are…" Merlin pointed at a pile of neatly folded clothes on the table.

"Ah yes, the manservant attire for Camelot, I thought yours could use replacing. They're identical anyway." Ramsay chuckled when Merlin gave him a questioning look, "I used to know a few Camelot servants in my day."

"Ah, what exactly did you do in your day, again? Or now, for that matter?"

Arry suddenly stiffened and held his hand to his ear, as if listening for noise, "I'm sorry, Merlin, I have to go. Please, make yourself comfortable here."

"Go? Where are you going?" Merlin asked frantically.

"We need to cover our tracks, so Halig and his men can't find you. Don't worry I'll be back soon." Arry sprinted out the door and was out of earshot before Merlin could convince him otherwise. Anyhow, the cauldron of water warming above the crackling fire seemed to be calling out to his sore, aching joints. A bath sounded nice.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Merlin held the warm poultice to his gradually recovering face and let the steam coat him with healing fumes. His facial swelling had gone down nicely, though it left a garishly purple black eye in its stead. Despite his raccoon-like appearance, Merlin was actually feeling a lot better—despite the fact that he'd been stranded in a hovel in the middle of the woods, alone, for two days. Arry had not returned after rushing out the door, and Merlin's physical condition had taken a turn for the worse before beginning to recovery—thus precluding him from leaving. _Today_, Merlin thought as he sipped on a bowl of mushroom soup he'd made, _I'm going to go back to the clearing and find Arry._ With his magic back, the world felt familiar again, he could make the water boil at will, float things over to himself when he was too tired or weak to get up, and most importantly, defend himself.

Merlin set off at a brisk walk—he'd gotten stronger now that he'd broken free of his gaolers—and before he knew it, he'd reached the clearing. The eerie stillness from before was ever present, lingering heavily in the air. Trees creaked and groaned despite no wind coming through, and the noise reverberated throughout the forest. Looking around, he tried to follow the footsteps of the bandits, but found that they lead nowhere. It didn't make sense, Halig's men seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

_Drip._

Merlin perked his head up, straining his ears to detect the source of the noise. He walked over to the tree he had been tied to, and saw some blood droplets there. _Strange_, he hadn't seen them during his first sweep through the area. Leaning in closer, he was about to look up into the tree when—

"Merlin!"

Merlin almost jumped five feet in the air. "Arry…how did you sneak up on me like that?" _Most people can't get the jump on me_.

"I've always been good at being sneaky," Arry shrugged and brushed some of his curly brown locks out of his eyes.

"Where have you been?"

"Well I came as close as I dared to get rid of the tracks you know, but as I neared, I realized they were suddenly nowhere to be found. It was strange, and I found myself trying to track the footsteps, see if I could find out where they went."

"Ah," Merlin gave Arry a strange look, "Why would you want to find them though?"

"Well I just wanted to make sure they wouldn't follow us. I mean, goodness Merlin, I don't think you'd want to fall into their hands again."

Merlin nodded, "I need to get back to Camelot." Perhaps it was the copious amount of alone time he'd had the last two days (or the lack of kicking/punching/beating), or perhaps it was the exposure to fresh air and sunlight, but Merlin had finally pieced together an idea of what happened in Camelot's dungeons—despite his fragmented recollections. He needed to speak to Arthur.

"Well I know the way, and I can lead you there. But please, let us go back to the hut for now. I haven't eaten in two days and I'm famished," Arry rubbed his stomach.

Though Merlin didn't want to, he felt he owed it to mysterious green-cloaked man, who had risked his life to help a stranger. So he nodded reluctantly and turned to go back the way he came. "What've you got there?" Merlin spotted a brown satchel at Arry's side that he hadn't noticed before.

"Oh you know, traveling essentials, I'm a bit of a wanderer. Say, you must be very behind on the recent news, given your…captivity. Have you heard of the big news in Camelot?"

"What news?" Merlin noted the hasty redirection, but didn't comment.

"Well someone made an attempt on the king's life, and nearly succeeded too, from what I hear." They had reached the hut again and Merlin went to spoon out some of his mushroom soup for Arry.

"So he's still alive then?"

"Hanging on, just barely, from what I've heard."

Merlin wasn't sure how to feel. He would never wish a person dead, but Uther…well, he haunted Merlin's nightmares. Though he was Arthur's father, and the _king_, he was also an obstinate, frustrating, and unreasonable man. The worst kind of barrier to one might encounter when trying to fulfill a destiny. When was that going to happen anyway? At this rate Merlin would be old and gray—or just plain tortured to death—before Albion could have its golden age under Arthur. Contemplating all this made his head hurt, so he tried switching to an unrelated topic, "Any news of Gilly?"

Arry stopped spooning the soup into his mouth, but didn't look up, "Who's that?"

"The missing girl?" Merlin observed Arry curiously, "Some men were talking about her at the tavern."

"Ahhhh, no I don't believe so," Arry resumed his friendly demeanor and sipped away merrily at his soup. "And honestly," he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "it's not her you should be worried about."

"Er, what?" Merlin thought he heard incorrectly.

"Well she's dead already, so nothing can hurt her…but you're not, so this will definitely hurt!"

Merlin's eyes caught the glint of steel as Arry whipped out a hunting knife from his belt, but the young warlock didn't react fast enough because he had NOT expected this at all. Arry stabbed the weapon down onto Merlin's right hand, pinning it to the table. Merlin's shocked brain took a second to catch up, but catch up it did, and he screamed in pain as blinding white, searing agony clouded his mind. Arry meanwhile, took the chance to open his bag and take out none other than those hateful magic-suppressing shackles. Merlin's eyes flashed yellow and Arry's chair started to tip over but the determined man grabbed onto the edge of the table and pulled himself forward—with his free hand he reached over and slapped one of the cuffs on Merlin's wrist. This made the pain on Merlin's right hand intensify three-fold, delivering a hefty blow. Vision blurry and eyes watery from the pain, the poor boy held up his left hand weakly and tried to sputter out a spell—Arry grabbed his wrist and attached the other cuff. It was over. As he clasped the ankle cuffs on, Merlin passed out and his head clonked onto the table, right on top of the small pool of blood forming from his pinned right hand.

* * *

[1] Season 4 Episode 9: Lancelot du Lac

[2] Season 4 Episode 1: The Darkest Hour

[3] Season 2 Episode 11: The Witch's Quickening

**A/N I'm sorryyyyy! I'm so sadistic, and I do not give Merlin any breaks, but that's angst for ya. Arry is not there to rescue Merlin, no, but perhaps Gwaine _will_ make an appearance. Who knows about these things? Oh right, me! :P  
Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter :)**

**Note of warning: my next chapter is probably going to be more violent than previous ones, because the story has been building to it, and I want to deliver it properly. However, I do not want to make anyone vomit or have nightmares! I might be mean to Merlin, but I'm not actually a mean person! _I swear._ Also if Merlin were real and I actually met him, I would SO not be mean to him. I'd attack him like a fangirl, with HUGS and GLOMPS. Soooo anyway, I will include a summary of what happens in the chapter at the very bottom of the page. If you prefer, you can just scroll down to the very bottom and read the highlights, and be spared the gratuitous Merlin whump/punishment.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Okay in my opinion, the whump didn't end up being that bad, but I'm leaving a summary at the end anyway. Thanks again to the very helpful and very awesome reviews. They inspire me to to write more and write as well as I can!**

Merlin's eyes slowly flickered open and he immediately began coughing—someone was holding a smoking canister under his nose—smelling salts? He tried to jerk away but realized that he was hanging by his arms in…a dungeon, yet again. He ended up swinging around a bit because his toes barely grazed the ground.

"Dggguh," he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as pins and needles shot up his arms. Two hands stroked through his hair gently then trailed down and gripped his cheeks, squeezing against them roughly.

"Shhhh, shhhhhhh. Don't struggle yet, that's for later," Arry hushed Merlin, who began to do just that—struggle—as the memory of what happened came rushing back. Straining his neck, Merlin lifted his head and saw that his right hand had been bandaged up, though a red, roundish spot still seeped through.

"What did you-what do you want?" he rasped. Arry tut-tutted and went to pick up a bowl of water from the table nearby. As Merlin's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he began to feel queasy as he saw various other contents laying on the table and decorating the walls—bizarre-looking instruments that he really did not want to know the use for. Arry held the water up to Merlin's mouth, who…hesitated, understandably.

"What? You think I'm going to poison you? Now that I've got you tied up and at my mercy?" Arry took a sip of the water, "I don't want to kill you, that would be so _boring_ and you're _much_ too interesting." He held the bowl back to Merlin's lips, who couldn't resist his thirst any longer, and was sufficiently convinced by the argument. "There, isn't that much better?"

As Merlin became more aware of his surroundings, he began contemplating ways to escape—perhaps he could overcome the magic suppression again! But before he had the chance to try anything out, he was seized by a strong sensation of nausea. Waves and waves of discomfort radiated from his stomach and chest to the point where he felt like passing out again. "What did you…do to me?"

"I poisoned you," Arry shouted with a smile, then burst into maniacal laughter. Merlin gaped at him incredulously, which only seemed to make him laugh harder. "I want you to use your mind magic to watch me as I hunt, I know you magical folk can do it. This poison will make sure that you stay with me throughout the hunt, and don't try to leave the show early. I got it off a high priestess that I tortured years ago." Arry pointed at a large glass pitcher, with inky black liquid in it.

When Merlin didn't respond, Arry punched him in the stomach, hard. "DO THE MIND MAGIC!"

"Unhf! I c-can't," Merlin was seeing stars, "Take…the shackles off."

Arry brushed his fingers softly against Merlin's cheek, then up into his hair, "I believe in you. I told you it could be overcome." His grip on Merlin's hair tightened and he wrenched the poor boy's forehead against his own, "Now close your eyes, and focus on me. I want you to see through my eyes. Experience the thrill of a hunt." Not really seeing a way out of it, Merlin let his eyelids droop down, and searched within his body for the buried magic. As he did so, the overpowering nausea began to melt away and he felt small warm tendrils energy snake their way upwards. However, it seemed that the poisonous black liquid he had ingested earlier exerted external influence over his bridled magic, preventing him from wielding it freely as he normally would. Though Merlin didn't really think he'd be able to make a connection with the madman before him, who was about as far from a Druid as Uther himself, he suddenly found himself seeing through his tormentor's eyes and hearing his thoughts—it almost felt like his consciousness had been dragged into Arry's head._ By the way, Merlin, I don't believe I've properly introduced myself, my name is Ramsay._

* * *

Arthur wore a grave expression as he sat on the throne. Halig and his men had disappeared—rumors suggested that Ramsay had gotten to them. Now an envoy from Alined's court had come to follow-up on some supposed correspondence.

"Your Grace, as we indicated in the letter, Ramsay left our service many years ago. He began to show signs of mental instability and excessive enjoyment of torture."

"Why did you not get word to us sooner?" Arthur did his best to remain civil despite his mounting frustration.

"We did send correspondence, Your Grace, I am not sure why you did not receive it…"

"We've heard enough!" Agravaine cut in. "This is just preposterous."

Arthur sighed, "Can you at least tell us any information on the last known whereabouts of this former extractor?"

"There were reports of young girls going missing from many of the villages surrounding the Mountains of Isgard…though no bodies have ever been found. But, some have thought that perhaps it was Ramsay. Near the end his time with us, he particularly enjoyed setting prisoners loose in the woods to hunt them down. He…developed a predilection for skinning his victims and then burning them. When we discovered he was eating them…well, that was when we dismissed him."

An uncomfortable silence filled the great hall. One of the squires came rushing in, not quite aware of all the rules of court yet, and began speaking.

"Your Grace, I've found Sir Gwaine, he said he'd find his own way to the physician's quarters."

Before anyone in the court could berate him, Arthur nodded and waved him off, "Council meeting will be concluded for today." Then motioning to Agravaine, "Uncle, would you mind helping Alined's envoy get settled in the guest chambers for the evening? I'll meet you in father's chambers this evening. We have important matters to discuss."

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Gwaine stood pacing in Gaius's room. "So in exchange for saving the kingdom, you lot conspired to deliver him right into the hands of a murderous psychopath?"

"Gwaine, that was _never_ my desire, and you _know_ I would never do that to Merlin!" Arthur argued, but felt stabs of guilt poke at him.

"Sure, but you would stand by and let your father do that to Merlin," Gwaine glared at him, "You nobles, you're all the same."

"HOW ABOUT INSTEAD OF PLAYING THE BLAME GAME, WE FOCUS ON TRYING TO SAVE MERLIN!" Arthur yelled, unable to contain his frustration any longer.

"HE WOULDN'T NEED SAVING IF YOU'D HAVE STOPPED THIS," Gwaine was about to stalk over to him but was held back by Gaius.

"Please, _please!_ Every moment we waste is a moment we could we using to get Merlin back."

Gwaine huffed, shook Gaius off, then went to stand next to a table, the edge of which he was gripping so tightly his knuckles turned white. Arthur sighed, and resumed a slightly calmer demeanor, "Alright, we'll have the coronation tomorrow so that I can be sworn in as Camelot's protector and interim king. Then we'll have my uncle spread the word that my father is recovering and I am going on a celebratory hunt. This should deter any power-mongerers for the moment."

Gwaine made a disdainful _tsch_ sound, "Celebratory hunt."

"I agree with everything except the 'interim' part," Gaius stated.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Arthur, your father…though his life may no longer be in danger, he will probably never be the same again, let alone be able to rule. He has been in a comatose state for days; his muscles have deteriorated, which will make it hard to walk, and he likely suffered brain damage during the prolonged period of insufficient blood flow."

More stabs of guilt. Arthur put his head in his hands, "I will do what must be done. But I will not let my best friend be left out to the wolves again."

"One wolf," Gwaine corrected, "One very big, very bad wolf."

_Who_, Arthur thought, _Merlin would have no trouble defeating if he hadn't been put into such a vulnerable state with those magic-suppressing tools._

* * *

It was like being was stuck in a nightmare, except much much worse. Turns out, Ramsay had given Halig and his men a sleeping draft, then strung them up in the trees like sacks of meat. If Merlin had lifted his head back in the clearing, he would have seen them—blood dripping from wounds onto the leaves. Ramsay had let them down a couple at a time, to track and hunt down like animals. Now it was down to just two more men, Halig and Vargo.

_ARE YOU HAVING FUN MERLIN? ISN'T IT INVIGORATING?_

Merlin didn't answer, but he winced internally. Over the last couple of hours he been forced to witness a string of atrocious and unusual killings, carried out with the utmost sense of enjoyment by the perpetrator. No matter the hatred he bore Halig, he didn't feel any joy at seeing these men—these humans—suffer and die like this.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Vargo screamed. His voice was raw from hours of screaming but he kept going. Ramsay had just shot him through the calf with an arrow.

_Clink. Clank. Clunk. Clonk._

Ramsay slowly dragged his spiked club across the rocks on the ground. His smile was monstrous-looking, exposing his blood-stained teeth and crazed eyes. "Can't run anymooore," he said in a sing-song voice.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—eck!" Vargo's scream was cut short by the sharp spike on the club, which caught him right on the throat. Blood bubbled out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. Ramsay paused briefly to observe this phenomenon, then quickly lost interest. He set about skinning the man like a rabbit and when he was done, threw the carcass onto a wheelbarrow which was already covered with them. Halig was last. And it was bloody—Ramsay did not give him a quick death. Merlin wanted it to stop. He wanted it to please stop. But it wouldn't.

_I got him good for you Merlin, how about that?_

When Ramsay carted the wheelbarrow back to the hut, he was feeling giddy. It had been a long time since he'd had such a good hunting session. He didn't even wait to wash himself off before heading for the secret opening to the underground dungeon. Merlin was right where Ramsay had left him, hanging slumped from the ceiling chain with a blindfold around his eyes—to make sure they stayed closed and kept the connection strong. Ramsay unhooked a chain from the wall and attached it to a set of gears, which began to slowly turn and lower Merlin's arms. Almost lovingly, Ramsay wrapped his arms around Merlin's body to support him as he was lowered to the ground. The boy was covered in a sheen of cold sweat and made an indication to vomit as soon as Ramsay removed the blindfold. Ramsay had a bucket ready as Merlin began retching out inky black goop.

"There, there," Ramsay patted Merlin's head and rubbed his back, "Such a powerful little creature you are, ridding your body of the poison. I knew you were special. That letter to King Alined said so." His eyes got a faraway look, "I think some of your powers were helping me during today's hunt. I felt stronger, faster, better…" then he turned back to look at Merlin, "I'm going to have to keep you around."

Merlin's eyes flashed gold faintly, and Ramsay was thrust back into a leg of the table. "Oh Merlin, I wish you hadn't done that."

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

_Clink. Clank. Clunk. Clonk._

Ramsay walked down the stairs dragging his club and sauntered over to Merlin, who was shivering now, after the cold sweat had evaporated. He was sitting with his back against a wall, legs stretched out before him—the irons were locked to a ring on the floor—and his arms stretched up above him. Ramsay was carrying what looked like a rope ladder, with one side unattached to the wooden planks. Whistling a little tune he began to slide the planks above and below Merlin's right leg, alternating between each side.

"What are you doing?" Merlin struggled mightily to keep the shiver out of his voice. Ramsay continued whistling and began lashing the round wooden rungs together. As Merlin's mind began to run wild with possibilities, his breathing pattern unwittingly came in short, panicked spurts. When Ramsay got up and went to grab the club where he dropped it on the floor, Merlin's heart beat so hard his chest hurt. "What are you…please…what do you want?"

Ramsay drank in the fear and anticipation, hardly able to contain himself. Striding over relaxedly, he gently stepped on a couple of rungs.

"Gggggnuunngh," Merlin tried to grit his teeth and bare the pain. With all his attention focused on the leg, he was unprepared for what happened next.

_CRACK! _Ramsay jammed the blunt end of his club against Merlin's left hand into the wall. _Crack, crack, crack, CRACK! CRACK!_ He kept going until he was satisfied that all of the fingers in Merlin's left hand were broken. Merlin was in more pain that he'd ever been in his entire life—and all of it was concentrated in his mangled left hand. He heard himself yelling, but didn't notice himself doing it. Ramsay's lips curled upward slowly as he watched Merlin thrash within the confines of his restraints. Waiting until Merlin's cries died down to strangled whimpers, he took the club and began swinging downwards with full force against the wooden planks.

_CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!_

**SUMMARY: Merlin wakes up and finds himself in the dungeon of Ramsay (who he thought was Arry). Ramsay himself does not have magic but has a not insignificant amount of knowledge regarding magic, and is in possession of relics from the Old Religion, one of which is a poison that helps establish a mental link between him and Merlin. Arthur is preparing to take charge in his father's stead, but also sees an opportunity to go rescue Merlin, with the help of our favorite knight, Gwaine. He found out that Ramsay doesn't work for King Alined anymore, and is just an insane psycho who likes killing and torturing things. Poor Merlin. Speaking of, Merlin has been forced to watch Ramsay brutally hunt and kill Halig's crew. Ramsay feels that the mental connection he made with Merlin through the poison has given him supernatural abilities that make him an even stronger killing machine. When Merlin shows a little defiance, Ramsay decides to teach him a lesson by breaking the bones in one of his legs and hands.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N This chapter is shorter than some of the last couple, but hopefully it just means I was able to say more with less words :). Your reviews have all been very helpful! For instance, if something wasn't clear to you in the story, I appreciate you letting me know so I can improve it and try to keep my plots making sense.**

**I also love all the guessing and requesting, so don't be shy with your comments ;P.  
**

"Do you think he's even still alive?" Cenred asked, trudging through the woods, close behind Morgause.

"A maggot like Ramsay couldn't kill Emrys," Morgana spat, surprising herself a little. "And when we do catch up to them, we should allow Mordred to kill Ramsay."

Cendred snorted, "Wonder if you'd still be so confident if not for these protective amulets."

Before Morgana could retort, Morgause cut in, "These amulets merely provide a thin shield. If he did indeed obtain the Fomorrah Blood from Mordred's mother, he may wield some of Emrys's powers."

"If that were the case, he'd be more likely to keep Merlin alive, right?" Morgana reasoned.

"Ramsay will probably still torture him," Mordred replied sullenly.

"That will work nicely in our favor, 'soften' his resolve a bit before we need to question him about the Crystal Cave's whereabouts," Morgause nodded to herself.

Morgana didn't say anything, but felt confused. What was that gnawing feeling in her stomach? Mordred was talking again, "The last town we passed reported a group of marauders drinking their way through the taverns. Then next town after that never had the pleasure of encountering said group. That means somewhere in these woods, in between the two towns, Ramsay caught up with Halig."

"We should have left sooner, Halig would have been much simpler to deal with," Morgause regretted, fingering the green amulet around her neck absently. "That idiot Agravaine failed to get vital information to us."

"Is this all even necessary? I mean, if he's in Ramsay's hands, he's either going to be dead or…close to dead. As long as his powers don't fall under Uther's control, we've achieved our goals," Cenred questioned.

"That monstrous bastard brought horror and death to our kind! And Mordred has a right to seek justice," Morgana seethed.

Cenred chuckled, "Justice? I think you mean vengeance. And last I recall, you've already taken your vengeance *_ahem_* I mean, justice, against the person who brought 'horror and death' to your kind."

"If Ramsay's killed him, so be it," Morgause decided. "If not, he could prove to be a valuable tool."

"I say we—" Cenred began but was interrupted by Morgause.

"What you say is of little interest to me."

There was a brief awkward silence, broken by Morgana. "Merlin might not give us the location of the Crystal Caves so easily. He's had a good track record of keeping secrets."

"If he won't help us willingly, he'll help us as a prisoner. Whichever the case, he cannot be allowed to return to Arthur's side."

* * *

Ramsay was humming—it was the same as the tune he had been whistling earlier. He'd been repeating the same set of motions for awhile now, and had established a comfortable routine: dip the bandage in the egg mixture, lay it against the wooden splints, then smooth it over Merlin's leg. "It's quite revolutionary—my methods of bone resetting. These bandages will harden and form a shell around your leg, so that the bone won't be disturbed while it's healing," Ramsay explained. "You know, in another life, I might have become a physician. Do you think I'd have made a good one?"

Merlin couldn't answer. Ramsay had gagged him with a leather belt strip to muffle out the extensive screaming that occurred earlier, before the splints had been laid down, when Ramsay was actually resetting Merlin's shattered leg bones. The warlock lay limp now, devoid of energy and barely conscious, watching his tormentor apply a plaster cast to his leg.

"—the egg white makes it sticky, and the flour helps it to solidify. I even ground up some old bones and added it to the mixture, for added strength see? Oh don't look at me like that, yes I used human bones." Ramsay paused for a moment, "I saved you from that brutish man, Halig—killed him for you. And now I'm healing you, so that you won't become a cripple. Don't I deserve some thanks?" He seemed to be waiting for a response, but none came, for obvious reasons. Ramsay laid his palm gently on Merlin's thigh, where no bandages had been laid yet, and pressed down, pushing his weight into it.

"Mmmmbfkrghh!" Merlin tried to jerk away.

"I SAID, DON'T I DESERVE SOME THANKS?"

Merlin made a pained gurgling noise and bobbed his head up and down. Ramsay removed his hand and wiped at Merlin's tear-stained cheek.

"Alright, alright. You can stop nodding, I hear you." Ramsay resumed his bandage routine. "I know that gag is uncomfortable, but I can't remove it yet, because we still have to reset your hand bones. And that's going to a lot feel worse than the leg."

* * *

Arthur stared blankly into the fire. He was thinking about the last time Halig had come to Camelot. It was to transport some Druid girl that ended up running away (probably good for her). Arthur had stumbled upon Halig in the dungeons, about to 'question' Merlin on the whereabouts of the girl. Halig seemed particularly upset about being interrupted. This time no one had interrupted him, at least not successfully...

"You remember the time your father banished me from Camelot?" Gwaine's voice jolted Arthur from his thoughts.

"How could I forget?"

Gwaine looked across the flames at Arthur, "I'm going to call that face the 'sour crabapple' from now on."

Arthur sighed, "Is there an eventual point to this?"

"I'm getting to it, just have some patience, Princess," Gwaine let the jab sink in a little before continuing, "You know that Merlin figured out Sir Oswald was up to something _way_ before I did? Before any of us. So really, it was Merlin who saved your life, not me."

"I'm told he did that a lot." Arthur replied stiffly.

Gwaine was silent for awhile, "Who could have imagined it? Our Merlin, being a powerful sorcerer."

"Warlock," Arthur corrected. "Gaius says he's a warlock."

"What's the difference?"

"Apparently warlocks are born with magic, never had to learn it."

Gwaine chuckled, "And here I was, thinking myself gallant, saving Merlin from Sir Oswald. He never needed my help."

Arthur gave a small smile, "He's never once claimed the glory that was his." But his thoughts quickly turned dark again, as they often did these days, "He knew about Morgana. Gaius says he tried to help her, before her betrayal and teaming up Morgause."

Gwaine shifted his gaze back to the fire, "He's a noble, chivalrous, and loyal friend. I suppose birds of a feather flock together."

The two fell silent for awhile, but air between them had definitely changed—whereas before it was an icy tolerance, now there sprouted the beginnings of warmth. "How would you feel about becoming a knight of Camelot?"

* * *

Morgana sat up from her bed roll, looking around at the other resting bodies in the campsite. Lithely as possible, she got up and stepped over them. The moon was high in the sky but she still felt wide awake, so she decided to go for a walk.

_It's magic Merlin, I think I have magic…I'm sorry, I'm upset, it's usually Gwen that has to deal with me when I'm like this. _[1]

_Don't worry, I haven't said anything to anyone…maybe I could help._

_I doubt that._

_You'd be surprised. I understand…that this must be frightening for you, especially as the king's ward. But I can take you to some people who might be able to help._

Morgana growled in frustration and tried quickening her pace. Why couldn't she stop thinking about these stupid memories? As she squeezed her palms against her temples, trying to rub away these thoughts, images of flowers kept flashing in her head.

_Lady Morgana, these flowers are from Merlin. He hopes they could cheer you up a bit…he knows you've been very upset, given the fire and everything…_

_Thank you Gwen. _

Purple flowers. Purple wildflowers.

_They're beautiful._ [2]

Suffocation! Couldn't breathe. She saw Merlin's watery eyes, face full of anguish as he swooped down and held her in his arms.

_You poisoned her! _[3]

_If you want to know what poison it is, you will undo the magic that drives the knights!_

_Tell me the poison or you'll die!_

_Then she'll die with me._

Morgana tripped over a root and sprawled onto the ground. She was sobbing. Sorrowful wails straight from the depths of her heart. When did everything go so wrong? She didn't know. She didn't think she knew anything anymore. For a brief moment after Morgause took her from Camelot, her anger had provided a sense of clarity, but that was gone now. She still hated Uther, he was the one who made her hate herself, feel ashamed of herself, but he had been taken care of now. There was no more revenge that could be exacted on him. Unless she took it upon herself to go and heal him, just so she could torture him and cause him some small measure of the amount of pain he had caused her throughout her childhood. Her thoughts and memories began to spin faster and faster until her exhausted mind finally wore out. Collapsing on the ground, she fell asleep. But even in her dreams, she could not escape her recollections.

_Sometimes you've got to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences._ [4]

* * *

Ramsay practically skipped back to his hut. He'd tried his hand at shooting some of the game in the forest this morning. It was incredible. He never missed. The arrow always went exactly where he wanted it to. Exactly.

_CREAAAAK._ When he opened the prison cell door, Merlin began shifting panickedly and trying to back into a corner—he didn't get very far.

"Please…please, I gave you what you wanted. You-your aim, your aim was better right?" Merlin tried to hold his hands out in front of himself defensively, but chain connecting his wrists was now also attached to a chain looped around his waist, thus preventing him from lifting his arms by much. The bulky plaster casts on his right leg and left arm further impeded any attempt at coordinated movement.

"You did well," Ramsay smiled warmly as he grabbed Merlin's left bicep and half-lifted, half-dragged the boy out of the cell towards the table. When they got there Ramsay grabbed the leather belt strip again, and draped it over his shoulder.

"What do you want? _What do you want?_ Just go try it out. I did what you asked, I gave it to you." When Merlin saw Ramsay take ahold of his arm cast and gently tap it against the table, he began babbling, "_Please!_ I g-gave you…w-what you wanted…what you w-wanted…"

"I know Merlin, you did, you did well," Ramsay soothed as he lifted the arm away from the table. After a pause, he slammed the cast down full-force against the edge of the table, hard enough to create a jagged break at the point of impact. After that it was like cracking a hard-boiled egg—gentler slamming back and forth, back and forth—until the cast was peppered with numerous small cracks all over the place, allowing the shell to be easily peeled away from the traumatized arm that lay underneath. "I'm sorry, I should have gagged you before I did that…but well, it's better late than never."

* * *

[1] Memories modified from lines in Season 2 Episode 3: The Nightmare Begins

[2] Season 3 Episode 1: The Tears of Uther Pendragon

[3] Season 2 Episode 12: The Fires of Idirsholas

[4] Season 1 Episode 4: The Poisoned Chalice


	10. Chapter 10

"I had to reset your fingers, see? That's why I had to break them again. I didn't do it correctly the first time and I don't want your hand to heal up deformed! Look at this hand here, see that organization? It's particularly tricky, because the thumb is laid out differently than the rest of the fingers." Ramsay held up a severed hand, once belonging to Halig, now mostly bone but with bits of muscle still dangling from it. "I need you to be understanding, as I have been towards you. The process was unpleasant, I know, but it was necessary. It's been days now, and you shouldn't hold grudges." Ramsay's tone was patient, almost fatherly.

"Please, I'm not doing it on purpose," Merlin started dry heaving again, "I'm…not…"

Black liquid dribbled down his chin and dripped into the bucket Ramsay held in front of him.

Ramsay grabbed a towel from his waist and wiped at Merlin's chin, "You must be regurgitating the poison earlier and earlier these days. The deer I was shooting at today got away. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

Merlin was too busy heaving up an enormous quantity of inky black vomit. Ramsay sighed, and waited for him to finish before tossing aside the bucket and standing up. Observing his prisoner thoughtfully, he walked over to his table of instruments and picked up a wooden mallet with an iron head. Merlin's panicked magic flared up desperately, as he watched Ramsay advance, trying hard to burst out of him. Little specks of gold flickered in his eyes and the chain between his ankles started to snap apart. "Grrrkk!" Merlin grunted from strained effort and tried to supplement with physical tugging at the bolt attaching his feet to the floor. Ramsay seemed rather interested by this phenomenon, instead of alarmed, but didn't let it distract him from the task at hand. He lifted the mallet far back behind him, then swung it forward with a thwack. "Ungh! Hngkk!" Merlin's grunts shifted into pained groans. Ramsay swung harder and harder until he heard a distinct cracking sound.

"It made me feel unhappy, Merlin." He spun around and strode out of the cell, leaving the poor boy he'd just beat mercilessly with a mallet whimpering in the cell. Merlin tried his best to ignore the jabbing pains coming from his lower left ribs and focus on snapping the chain linking his wrists—currently hooked to a ring in the wall above his head. But so many things interrupted his concentration—fear, for one—as well as a hacking, bloody cough that was probably the result of a broken rib.

Ramsay came back with a tray of items and set it down cheerily, "I've been griping too much. Success is only rewarded to those who are persistent!" Merlin became more frantic, tugging hysterically at the ring in the wall whilst Ramsay removed a couple of tools. Holding down Merlin's flailing legs, he attached a new chain between the manacles and removed the old broken ones—the chain was then re-bolted to a ring on the floor.

"J-just tell Uther, I'll swear the oath, but I want to swear fealty to-to Arthur. Can it be to Arthur?"

Ramsay threw Merlin a wolfish grin and returned to his 'tray of goodies.' He picked up the large glass pitcher with inky black liquid and a funnel. Gripping Merlin's chin, he shoved the funnel in. "Drink," he commanded while pouring from the pitcher—as if Merlin had a choice. When about a fourth of the liquid had been emptied, Ramsay set the pitcher down and held a pair of nose pincers threateningly close as a warning. "You keep that Fomorrah Blood down, don't you dare let it out through your nose." Merlin was able to swallow unhindered, luckily, and as the level of fluid in the funnel slowly sank, Ramsay relaxed. "King Uther? I don't serve Uther. No no no, this is my own thing. Completely unrelated."

Merlin felt like throwing up right then and there. He was in a worse situation that he'd even imagined. Nobody knew he was here. He had been holding out for nothing. The madman before him was nothing more than that, just a madman, not an extractor. Nothing would make this stop. Ramsay was fingering Merlin's broken rib, "I'll wrap some bandages around this after I finish getting you set up. I'm sorry, I tend to lose control you know, when I'm griping. I just get frustrated." Finally, the liquid in the funnel was gone, and Ramsay went to retrieve the final item from the tray. When Merlin saw it he resorted to pleading.

"I'll try harder, _I promise_…don't do this, please!" With his good leg, he tried to kick out futilely. This only seemed to fuel Ramsay's primal excitement, as he pounced like a predator and ruthlessly yanked the leather belt strip around Merlin's mouth, tied so tightly that it shoved back cruelly between Merlin's teeth.

"Let's deal with those troublesome eyes too, shall we?" Ramsay reached for the blindfold. "Don't disappoint me again."

* * *

"I think we've got a shadow," Gwaine said without moving his lips. Arthur nodded imperceptibly as he brought the cup of water up to his lips. They were sitting in a tavern for a midday meal before venturing on.

"Three tankards of mead John!" yelled a man from another table.

"Comin' up," the innkeeper replied.

Gwaine motioned him over after he delivered the mead, "John is it? Give that boy by the door some bread, compliments of me and my friend."

"Sir?" the innkeeper seemed confused, but didn't pursue it. All sorts of strange people coming through these days, he thought. When he brought the bread over to the mousy-looking boy standing near the doorway, the lad turned beet-red and started running.

Gwaine and Arthur jumped up and gave chase. It wasn't too hard to catch up with him—the lanky boy looked undernourished.

"Who sent you? Do you work for Ramsay?" Arthur demanded. The boy paled, but stuck his chin out defiantly and didn't say anything.

Gwaine smirked, "Guess they don't teach you much street smarts in the royal castle." Then crossed him arms, "From the looks of him, this here little chap wants to be a knight. He's got makeshift armor on, stitched together from bits of scrap metal, and...is this castle-forged steel?!" Gwaine fingered the sword boy hanging by the boy's waist. "Where'd you steal it?"

"It's mine, it was a gift."

Arthur gave Gwaine a dubious look. "What's your name?"

The boy sniffed and wiped his nose, "Ronan."

"Where're your folks?"

"Dead. Been on my own since I was little."

Arthur sighed, "Alright Ronan, I've got some pull in Camelot. Bring this here paper with you to and report to a headservant named George. He can get you set up as a squire." Ronan's face lit up. "But first, we've heard the rumors around town are that a man named Ramsay keeps an abode in the woods. We're trying to find it. Can you help us with that?"

And just as quickly as it lit up, Ronan's face became ashen again, "Those woods are quite far from here." He stayed quiet, expecting Arthur and Gwaine to say something, but they didn't. "Are you…trying to rescue someone?"

"Yes," Gwaine said softly, "A very kind, worthy, and gentle-hearted friend."

"What if you friend's dead already?"

Long silence.

"Can you just tell us where to find these woods? We won't ask you to accompany us."

* * *

_Clink, clink._

Merlin sat there miserably, shifting every so often in an attempt to appease his aching muscles as well as alternate the pressure between various injuries in his body: his stabbed right hand, his broken-fingered left hand, his shattered right leg, his broken ribs. All the while he had to concentrate on the spell Ramsay had asked him to do, the one to aim arrows perfectly, but he could already feel rumblings stirring in his stomach, and knew he wouldn't be able to keep the poison down for long.

Merlin was sorry. So, so sorry. He was sorry because he _must_ have done something wrong to deserve this, right? Maybe if he was sorry enough, he would be forgiven and all this would stop. Because this misfortune, this hellish form of punishment, had to be the result of _something_ he'd done wrong—things like this didn't just happen to good people. He racked his brain for all the things he'd ever done in his life, to try and figure out what that terrible thing was. He'd always tried his best to be honest and principled, to be helpful to others—especially Arthur. His mother had taught him from an early age, never to seek vengeance or retaliation on anyone, because acts of love were far more powerful than acts of hate. He'd endeavored to be kind and respectful towards everyone he met. _But you hurt Morgana_, a voice inside him reminded._ I had to save the city, and Arthur,_ he argued back. _You could have found another way,_ the voice challenged. Then there were all the times he'd watched Uther execute people of magic, hunt down camps of Druids, and not done anything to prevent it. _But I tried to warn people, I tried to save people…but I couldn't always! _Merlin insisted fruitlessly. In the end, he was merely arguing with himself, and honestly, the poor boy hadn't committed anything close to a terrible offence. He was just desperately rationalizing to make the horrendous situation a bit more bearable—make it seem like there was some meaning to all his pain and suffering.

Merlin started wheezing, he had to fight his natural body's reaction towards the repulsive dark magic of Fomorrah's Blood—which was to hurl it out. Still, he felt little spurts roll up his throat and bubble out around the gag.

"I told you not to disappoint me."

Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. Turns out Ramsay hadn't left, just stood there creepily, silently watching. He was using that voice where he didn't sound the least bit angry but was about to do something awful. Merlin started gurgling and pleading through the gag. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry!_ He knew none of it would make a difference but he just wanted so badly for Ramsay to stop hurting him.

"Is Arthur your former master?" Ramsay crouched down and gripped his chin tightly. Merlin tried to turn his face away but couldn't release himself from Ramsay's grip. "I'm your master now. I think you need to be given a little reminder." Ramsay leaned his face against Merlin's cheek and stroked it a bit, before whispering, "I think I'll go kill him."

* * *

_There was definitely a scuffle here_, Mordred communicated through mind-speak to Morgana and Morgause. They crouched in the bushes surrounding a clearing. Mordred had first noticed little bits of blood smeared on some of the leaves, and recommended they be stealthy. Suddenly they heard whistling. Someone was coming from further in the woods. A woman screamed. Then there was silence. No one moved, they were unsure of what they just heard, but it sounded unearthly. Morgana saw Mordred clench his hands into fists.

_I can cast a spell out that hones in on the presence of Fomorrah Blood, but it'll only work if the person who ingested it did so recently and is close by_, Morgause's eyes flashed gold suddenly the air was tinted in gray. The only parts with color outlined a path through the woods. _This way._

_Why can't I hear any birds or other animals?_ Morgana asked.

_It means there is a dark and evil presence here_, Mordred responded.

Soon they were upon a hut. Cenred made some hand motions and his men circled the hut. Mordred's eyes blazed gold and the door burst open. When they got in, strangely the only thing lit up in color was the fire.

_This doesn't make sense_, Morgana exclaimed.

_Through the fire, there's an opening behind it._ Morguase dimmed the flames and they found themselves stepping into a shallow enclave that soon dipped down into a set of winding stairs. Morgause's spell was wearing off but it was just as well because everything was a drab gray stone color. At the bottom of the stairs the hallway split in three directions. _Everyone split up, tell us if you find anything._

Morgana took the farthest right hallway. For some reason as she walked down the gloomy corridor her heart was thudding hard in her chest. She wondered if Merlin had been scared as he was dragged through this hallway, or if he had been scared back when she and Morgause found him in the Darkling woods. He hadn't seemed scared. He just looked at her, with those sad, blue, disappointed eyes, as if she had done something wrong. _I'm not the one who tried to kill you_, she thought, _what were you so unhappy about?_ But then another voice squeezed in, _You're about to do a lot worse than kill him, and at least he didn't do it out of spite. _

"Ow!" she had walked into a wall. _Blæcern_, she said and some torches along the wall lit up. She almost screamed when she saw the room. There were skulls and bones littered everywhere. Various instruments of torture lay on a table in the center, some of which were stained with age-old blood. In the corner was a cell, with a person chained up inside. His wrists were being held up by a hook on the wall above him, his ankles were hobbled by a chain linking his manacles, which was connected to a ring on the floor. Though he was wearing a blindfold, he seemed to sense that someone had entered the room, and tensed his muscles.

"Merlin?"

**A/N Are you guys are exciteeeed? I am :). Also, I put two tributes in there, one to Game of Thrones, one to Doctor Who! Haha, hope you enjoy them if you find them.**


	11. Chapter 11

It was Merlin, she was sure. He was wearing that signature manservant outfit with the blue tunic, red scarf, and brown outer jacket, except his entire right leg was covered in some hardened white shell—in fact, so was his left arm. Morgana crept in for a closer look. Merlin had been tortured, that much was for sure, and from the way he was hyperventilating, he was terrified of more to come. Morgana wasn't quite sure how she felt—she thought about the last time she'd seen Merlin—fire blazing in his eyes as his power rippled across the throne room. Now here he was, fettered, mute, blind, and chained up like an animal. A small part of her felt satisfied, because it seemed right for the person who hurt her to end up like this.

She tugged the blindfold down from his eyes. Merlin's eyes were swimming with misery and fear. When he saw Morgana, he seemed like he wanted to say something, but couldn't through the gag, which was wrenched cruelly around his lower face. His soulful blue eyes bore into hers, speaking volumes to how much he had suffered since they last met.

_Abricaþ benda._ At Morgana's command the buckle snapped open and Merlin started coughing, eventually spitting out the gag. She tried to keep her voice cold and detached, "When Morgause comes in, tell her where the Crystal Caves are. Don't try holding out, just give her what she wants."

"Crystal Caves…?"

"Morgana!"

Morgana whipped her head around. Morgause was standing at the cell door, still slightly ajar, with Mordred next to her. "You found him," Mordred commented. Morgana nodded mutely, not sure why she felt like she had just done something wrong.

"Emrys." Morgause walked over to Merlin's other side and kneeled down. "We are your kin." Merlin remained apprehensive-looking. "Morgana is the rightful ruler of our people, of Camelot. We need to install her on the throne, and would like to do so with the least amount of bloodshed possible—"

"Arthur is the rightful ruler of Camelot."

Morgause paused. "You are loyal, Emrys, I admire that. But your loyalties are misplaced. We are your magical kinfolk. Our kind is meant to rule this land, and Morgana is part of the royal bloodline. Lend your hand to our great and noble cause!"

"And what if I don't? You're going to make me swear an oath of fealty? Enslave me?" Merlin responded with an embittered voice.

"He won't help us, the Dochraid already told you," Mordred reminded.

Morgause's voice quickly lost its entreating tone, "Tell us where the Crystal Caves are."

Merlin maintained his caustic attitude, "You think you're better than Uther, but you're the same." Morgause's expression hardened, but Merlin didn't seem to care, "And you're not my kin."

Morgana tried to interject, "If you help us willingly, it'll go easier for you."

"No."

Morgause sneered, "I'm afraid you won't have much choice in the matter." With that she made a squeezing motion in the air that caused Merlin to start choking and gasping for air. "Morgana, Mordred, put your hand on his temples and then grab onto my hands. We'll cast the spell together." Morgana reluctantly placed her palm on Merlin's left temple, while holding her other palm against Morgause's.

_Ætýne éow ingemynd._ [1]

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Merlin felt Morgause digging through his past, invading his private memories, not that she really cared about any of them. She was after one thing in particular. Merlin saw Taliesin flash across his mind's eye—Morgause paused there, she held the image, then suddenly she was gone, and Merlin could open his eyes again.

"—in the Valley of Fallen Kings [2]. With the appropriate spell, if I go to the right spot, I'd be able to access the caves."

"But he's not in any condition to travel," Mordred noted.

Morgana piped up, "I could stay here and watch him, while you go and retrieve the crystals. You'd get there faster this way. Take Mordred with you."

Morgause shook her head, "I'll take Cenred, Mordred should stay here to protect you." Morgana opened her mouth to argue, but Morgause put her hand up, "Do not worry for me sister, I am greatly recovered." Then walking over, she embraced Morgana tightly, "You shall have what is rightfully yours soon enough, sister."

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgause saw Mordred pacing around, scanning the contents of the dungeon with an unreadable expression on his face. As he surveyed the table of torture instruments, he began mumbling, "He needs to be cleansed, cleansed from this world. He's a plague."

Morgana looked over at Merlin, "Should we...release him from the wall?"

Morgause was now preparing to leave, "Do what you need to. We'll head back to Cenred's castle after I return. Don't remove his manacles. I won't be long sister." Morgana smiled weakly and watched her sister glide gracefully out of the dungeon. She looked over at Mordred, who was still muttering to himself nonsensically, "Mordred?"

But Mordred wasn't listening, he was now digging through a pile of parchment and scrolls. "There are countless precious relics and spell books down here, many were thought lost to the world after the Great Purge." He stopped to read one, "This is my mother's handwriting."

* * *

_Beneath the Mortaeus tree [3], kill and drink the blood of a young virgin. Then perform the incantation for forty days and forty nights. By the next cycle of the moon you will be undefeatable._

Ramsay was contemplating. He had never considered practicing sorcery before, he was too busy indulging his other interests. But he'd witnessed a dramatic improvement in his abilities while on the borrowed magic from Merlin, and experienced an intense thrill that was easily addicting. There was an old scroll he'd obtained many years ago from the same priestess who possessed the Fomorrah Blood. It was so intriguing that over time he had memorized the contents. It was a prescription for power derived from the darkest magic. These types of things tended to interest Ramsay. Ever since he was a little boy, he'd enjoyed killing things. When the Great Purge began, he'd only been fifteen years old, but on the day they asked him to stand guard during a torture session (none of the other guards wanted to, because they couldn't stomach the screams of this particular prisoner), he'd found his calling. The stubborn man had refused to swear fealty to King Alined, and Ramsay asked if he could offer some assistance. He was a natural, within minutes the man was begging for mercy, willing to do anything asked of him. King Alined had been so pleased that he continued calling the man by the nickname Ramsay had come up with, the Trickler [4].

Still caught up with these deliberations, he set off for the caves beneath the Forests of Balor [3], where the Mortaeus tree would be found. He thought of Merlin too, still chained up back at the hut. _Probably be dead when I get back._ He wasn't concerned though—well it did seem like a bit of a shame. But he was onto bigger better things now. He was going to become a sorcerer.

* * *

"Where are you going?!" Morgana was frantic.

Mordred had rolled up the parchment and stuffed it in his bag, but parts of it still were visible: _WARNING A break in concentration of more than five minutes at any point during the forty day isolation period will result in a backfiring that causes the practitioner to go insane. Any breaks in concentration will destabilize mental stability._ "I'm going to find Ramsay."

"Now?"

"I don't want him remaining in this world a second longer. After what he's done to my mother, to countless other innocent people, after he's-" Mordred's voice cracked and he didn't go on.

Morgana rushed over, and put her hand on Mordred's arm. She didn't say anything, but pulled him towards her and enveloped him in a hug. "I understand how you feel."

"Then you know why I must do it, Morgana." Mordred pulled back and gave her a sorrowful look, before dashing off into the dark. Morgana was left alone in the dungeon, with a now passed out Merlin—he had developed a fever not long ago and seemed to be sinking into a state of delirium. "Men," she sighed and rolled her eyes, then went to see if she could find a washcloth and basin.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Morgana ladled some of the steaming hot liquid from the cauldron above the fire into the copper basin—Ramsay seemed to have pilfered some items from King Alined's castle. She found it somewhat ironic that she, being once a royal Lady, was now preparing a basin of fresh, hot water for a servant. How strange the events of life could unfold sometimes! She dimmed the flames and stepped down the winding staircase to Merlin's cell again.

Merlin was laying on the ground and shivering uncontrollably, even though Morgana had draped a ratty old blanket she found over him. She noted how the keys to Merlin's manacles were hung on the wall in plain sight of where Merlin sat, providing a tantalizing reminder of the prospects of escape. It would be easy to bring them over and release Merlin right now—might help him recover from this illness faster…yet Morgana suspected he'd be out of here the minute she released him, and some subconscious part of her didn't want him to leave. As she held the steaming towel to Merlin's forehead, she recalled the Dochraid's words, _the process of extraction will be one that is excruciatingly painful for Emrys_.

"Freya…" Merlin stirred and grasped onto Morgana's hand. Morgana drew back in surprise, spilling the basin of water as she did so.

"Ugh," she unfolded the towel and repositioned it on Merlin's forehead, preparing to go retrieve another basin of water.

Merlin's eyelids were partially open, and he peered blearily at her through a clouded haze. "Freya," he grabbed onto her wrist again, "Don't go."

Morgana paused, unsure of what to do. Finally she made an annoyed grunt and sat back down, "Just for a second." She wondered who Freya was, obviously a girl. Apparently Merlin had been in love before, but where was this girl now? _Gone, hopefully._ Morgana bolted upright, _What? Why would she think that? Ughhh, who cares._ Her weird, obtrusive thoughts were resurfacing. "I need to go get more water." _Why am I even explaining myself to him?_

Merlin cupped his hands together and his eyes shimmered gold. When he opened his hands, there was a singular, red strawberry in his palms [5]. Morgana took the fruit presented to her—or to Freya, rather—and eyed it with amazement. Such a simple spell, really, but to perform it without even uttering an incantation, and while restrained by magic-suppressing manacles—well, it was really quite something. Not really knowing why, Morgana bit into the strawberry, and experienced an unexpected sensation of euphoria. Merlin's magic was a wonder to behold, full of love and joy, beautiful, blissful, and bereft of darkness. Transcendant.

"Being different's…nothing to be scared of."

"What?" Morgana heard her voice quiver.

"I'm going to look after you. I'm going to come with you."

Morgana swallowed thickly and felt her eyes brimming with tears despite herself. She put her hands in Merlin's, and felt him clutch them. It was someone else that Merlin was remembering—Freya—but for the moment, she didn't care. "Come with me where?"

"Somewhere far away, where no one knows us. Somewhere with mountains…a few fields, wildflowers, a couple of cows, and a lake…a _lake_…" Merlin's eyelids drooped again, and his grip on Morgana's hands loosened. She blinked and wiped hastily at her face, removed from her trance-like fantasy. Though it wasn't directed at her per se, Morgana had just experienced what it might feel like to be loved by Merlin. It was such a different sensation than what she'd ever felt before. Uther's love had always been selfish and poisonous, both indulgent and deprivatory at the same time. Arthur was emotionally-stunted, maybe as a result of growing up without a mother, so though he cared for Morgana, he behaved coldly and distantly toward her. Gwen was loving in a respectful way, as servants were taught to be towards their masters. It was Morgause who gave Morgana her first taste of passionate familial love, but even this was somewhat conditional. Morgana didn't feel free to just be herself. Out of everyone, perhaps in the end it was Mordred who cared for her the most, but his love had to fight its way through layers of painful, gut-wrenching life experiences as a Druid living in Uther's kingdom—even the hardiest weed would struggle to grow in such conditions. Merlin's love however, was so wholesome and unconditional, pure and limitless. Morgana thought back to the moment he'd poisoned her, as he held her in his arms, the way his soulful blue eyes looked into hers. She suddenly saw it in a different light; whereas before his eyes seemed uncaring, now she remembered them being expressionful and benevolent—he hadn't wanted to do what he did, and he was so sorry.

_The process of extraction will be one that is excruciatingly painful for Emrys_. Morgana took off her protective green amulet and placed it around Merlin's neck. "You kept my secret for me Merlin, saved me from an early execution by Uther. For that I owe you." As her eyes flashed with magic and she blasted a hole through the ceiling, she took one last glance back at Merlin, "An eye for an eye."

* * *

Arthur was dreaming. Morgana was there, but it was old Morgana, from years ago. She was wearing that purple gown that was her favorite.

_Merlin's in trouble! Come with me._ She beckoned.

Arthur hurried to catch up. He sprinted weightlessly through the forest, past a sunny clearing and a series of thickets. Finally he came upon a hut, with a huge hole blown up next to it. A set of winding stairs led into the crater. Morgana pointed down it urgently, and guided him down a long, narrow hallway. There was a room at the very end, and Merlin was lying in it, looking injured and unconscious. Arthur heard jingling and turned his head, Morgana was waving a ring of keys, and she put it in his satchel. She put her hand on his.

_I'm sorry, Arthur._

* * *

[1] _Ætýne éow ingemynd_ = Open your memories.

[2] Season 3 Episode 5: The Crystal Cave

[3] Season 1 Episode 4: The Poisoned Chalice

[4] Season2 Episode 10: Sweet Dreams

[5] Season 2 Episode 9: The Lady of the Lake

**OMG I really enjoyed writing that scene between Merlin and Morgana ^_^ 3 3 3**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N You know what makes me happy? KNOWING THAT MY FANFICTION MAKES MORE THAN JUST ME HAPPY! Also, knowing that there are people out there who love Merlin as much as I do, it's so validating. Love you guys all so much for reading, reviewing, and favoriting.**

**Ok I know we're not supposed to reveal much about ourselves, but over the last week I was travelling internationally, and I got my first chance to meet a lot of people from around the world. I got to meet a LOT of Brits, for the first time evah. Haha, every time I met one, I had to hold back from going, "YOU'RE FROM BRITAIN? THAT'S WHERE MERLIN'S FROM!" Yeaaaah, again, I try not to scare people I meet in real-life (and fanfiction life too). Plus, though I'm proud of being a dork, it is always kind of awkward if there's that moment when a girl is like, "Fanfiction? ****What's that? **Merlin? Isn't he supposed to be an old man?You think he's hot? Whoa...you're kind of weird."

**That being said though, it is awesome when I share that moment with a person where we're both like, "YES I WRITE FANFICTION." Then we start laughing hysterically, and I know we share that bond. Okay sorry, enough of a non-sequiter, and back to the point. I mean, story. :P**

Gwaine's eyes snapped open. He thought he heard shuffling in the woods. "Who's there?" he called out.

"See something?" Arthur rolled over, eyes wide open despite the early morning dark. Both boys had well-honed skills as warriors, and could transition between sleep and wakefulness seamlessly.

"Not sure, check that none of your stuff is missing," Gwaine began rummaging through his own packs.

"You wanna get going? Since we're up already…" Arthur was trying hard to retain the events of his extremely vivid dream, but even as he spoke the details were slipping out of his mind like water from his fingers.

"Fine by me. WHOA…somebody's in a rush, slow down."

* * *

Mordred's thoughts were occurring in a non-linear fashion. He thought of his mother, then his father. He thought of Morgana, then his drowned friend in the Druid camp [1], then Arthur. He thought of his mother, then Ramsay, then his father, then Uther. Suddenly he felt a stitch in his side, and had to grab onto the nearest tree trunk while he caught his breath.

_In and out. In and out._ He tried to re-regulate his breathing, which had become erratic and spasmodic. "RAMSAY!" he screamed. "WHERE ARE YOU?" The only response was birds chirping and frogs croaking. "COME FACE ME!" A couple of birds flapped off among the trees, startled by the noise.

_I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise. [2]_ Mordred heard Morgana's voice, but he wasn't sure if it was in his head or in the woods. She said this phrase to him often. It was one of the first promises she ever made to him, the day his father was murdered in Camelot [2]. And ever since they had reunited, she was always trying to carry through on this impossible guarantee. But over the years, Mordred had learned, that the other person who could stop bad things from happening to yourself was you.

The scroll in his bag slipped out and floated to the ground. Bending over, Mordred picked it up shakily. These were perhaps the last words his mother ever wrote, possibly in hopes that her life might be spared by that monster Ramsay. The powerful magic of the Old Religion—it promised the wielder an ability to cause painful and excrutiating deaths. _Ramsay deserves a painful and excrutiating death._ The Mortaeus tree [3]. It mentioned that this ancient ritual take place there. _I'll head to the caves, where the tree resides._ Ramsay didn't deserve an easy death.

* * *

"And who do you think said you could come through here?"

Ronan stared at the tip of a spear pointed right between his eyes. He didn't let it scare him though—that was how he survived, never let anyone think he had anything to fear. "You better put that spear down, if you care about keeping that head on your shoulders!"

"Hah! I oughta spear you through that dumb head of yours where you stand," the guard laughed while his partner pushed Ronan to the ground.

"What's going on here?" a scowling-faced man walked over, with an elderly gentlemen by his side.

"Lord Agravaine, my apologies. We were just dealing with a common street scoundrel trying to sneak his way through Camelot's gates."

"I'm not trying to sneak through! I have papers! You just never asked," Ronan growled.

"Let me see those," Agravaine requested.

"But sir-" the guard started to protest.

"This is Arthur's signature," Gaius pointed at the bottom of the paper. "So you've seen him, did he get Merlin?"

"Erm…" Ronan gave the old man a quizzical look, "I…was told to report to someone named George?"

"That's fine, that's fine, just get him to the servant's quarters. But I believe there's no more space in the dormitories at the moment. Gaius would it be alright if he took Merlin's room?"

* * *

From the looks of it, Arthur and Gwaine were still more than a day's distance away. Morgana groaned internally. She wanted to go after Mordred—he didn't seem in the right state of mind to be going after a cold-blooded mass murderer, but it hadn't felt right to leave Merlin alone. The once-great warlock was still fighting the grips of death and hadn't been able to keep much food down. His fever had barely dipped over the last couple days and Morgana used her entire arsenal of magical knowledge and enchantments just to keep him alive.

"Pretty sure it's more like an eye for a leg at this point," she muttered grumpily as she pulled Merlin's head into her lap. She then reached for the small gauze towel in the water bowl. Holding it to Merlin's mouth she squeezed it a bit and began dripping small drops in. All the while she kept chanting a spell to add warmth to Merlin's body. But Morgana was drained, she had used up a lot of her own magic heal Merlin over the last couple days, and she was running low on energy. She need to get Merlin out of this cell and into the sunlight, where he could receive some natural heat.

Looking down at him, she assessed the situation. Merlin was not a large person by any means…but neither was Morgana. And with her magic running low, the only option was going to be physically carrying him out of the dungeon. Sitting Merlin up, she began to maneuver him onto her back. He moaned softly and furrowed his eyebrows, probably uncomfortable from the jostling, but Morgana pressed on.

"Ungrk! Come on!" she grunted with effort as she balanced Merlin's legs around her hips and began to stand. Knees still wobbly, she slowly inched her way down the long hallway, panting and gasping. "Good thing…you lost weight," she joked to an unconscious Merlin. She laughed to herself anyway. That's the way it had always been around Merlin. He was a bringer of joy and laughter. Somehow he'd been able to go his whole life without being detected as a person of magic—sparing him the consequent harshness and persecution. He'd grown up with a loving mother who'd then sent him to a loving Gaius. Merlin had lived a blessed childhood, and the fruits borne of such an existence were sweet indeed. _Perhaps that was why I wanted some misfortune to befall you. Some...fissure to tarnish your unblemished life._

"I'm such a petty and vindictive little person aren't I?" she asked, continuing to drag the two of them along. "Well would a petty girl come save the boy who tried to kill her?" she challenged. "Ugh," she huffed and went back to concentrating on climbing the stairs. As they slowly ascended, Morgana tried a spell to give herself more strength, _Cræft_!

She was able to stumble up the last couple of steps and out into the sunlight. A light breeze blew through the trees and rustled the grass, sending wisps of feathery dandelion florets floating through the air, rotating, spinning. Under a particularly old, twisted, gnarly tree, she spotted a bed of purple violets and headed towards it. Setting Merlin down on this soft cushion, she took a moment to brush all the dandelions out of her own hair. Feeling exhausted however, she collapsed down face-first onto the flowers. Turning her head to the side, she observed Merlin, slanted sparkling sun rays catching his black hair and casting long, thin shadows over his closed eyelids. Another gust of wind blew past and some purple petals swirled up from the ground and brushed across his face. Morgana found his expression to be surprisingly peaceful given all his recent trials and tribulations—but he was asleep, after all.

Her own wakefulness was beginning to wane with the setting sun. All that magic depletion seemed to have also depleted her body of physical energy. _I don't have enough energy to keep myself warm._ Even as she thought this, cold chills began to run through her body. Flipping to her side, she looked at Merlin, who was not only soaking up the rays of sunlight but also the magical warmth of her spells. Teeth chattering, she scooted over next to him, closer and closer, until she was in vicinity of this warmth. Merlin's arm was cast off to his side, creating a convenient open spot against his side. _I'll just sleep a moment…until my energy returns…and my warmth._ As she nestled herself up next to Merlin, she began to feel small waves of warmth spill over her, followed by waves of drowsiness. Feeling more safe and content than she had in ages, Morgana closed her eyes.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Morgana snapped her eyes open.

"So you think Ronan will find his way to Camelot alright?" Arthur asked.

"Haha, the kid's been on his own in the streets for some time now, he knows how to find his way around," Gwaine assured.

Morgana scrambled away from Merlin and darted for the nearby bushes. She just managed to clamber out of sight before heavy footsteps broke through into the clearing. "WHOA!" she heard Arthur exclaim. Both men drew their swords reflexively.

"Merlin?"

Arthur crept steadily forward towards Merlin. Reaching the sleeping form on the ground he dropped to his knees and got a look at his face. "MERLIN!"

Merlin stirred, just barely. Gwaine shook him a bit. Morgana groaned internally, for probably the hundredth time this week honestly. _Don't shake him, idiot._ "Keys! We've gotta find some keys to get him out of those manacles."

Arthur put his head to his forehead, and seemed to be straining. "I think…"

Gwaine had begun running about the clearing, looking under rocks and around bushes—making Morgana nervous (she didn't have much energy to conceal herself, let alone defend herself). "Maybe it's around here somewhere…he just dropped it before he could get free. Looks like he broke out of that prison there though…"

"I think…" Arthur was still straining. He knew what Merlin would say if he were conscious. _Well don't think too hard. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself._ [4] "Gaaah, ok hold on wait…I think we should check my bag."

"What?" Gwaine had advanced further along. Arthur crouched down quickly and moved with purpose, now that he had finished his thought, and opened the flap of his bag. Inside was a set of keys. Grabbing them out he advanced towards Merlin, who was beginning to do more than stir. His eyes were semi-open, eyelashes fluttering as he blinked.

"Arthur? _Arthur?_ I mean, wait, are-are you Uther?" Merlin began to hold his hands up defensively.

"No idiot! It's me, Arthur!"

Merlin looked skeptical, "That's what you said last time…"

"What-what's that on your leg? And arm?" Arthur inspected the casts quizzically and advanced forward, causing Merlin to feel panicked.

"No! Get away from me! Please! I'll swear fealty to Arthur!" Merlin rolled onto his stomach and started trying to crawl away on his stomach. "Just tell Uther, _go tell him_! No more, _please_!" He thought he saw a hooded figure darting between the woods, wifts of curly black hair trailing behind.

Little did Merlin know, his delirious pleading and blubbering just about broke Arthur's heart, whose chest was aching in a way he didn't know it could ache. "Merlin, calm down, it's me," his voice was low and barely steady, dangling on the precipice of emotional control. "Just…stay still, and I'm going to get those things off you." But Merlin was not comforted, and tried to struggle as Arthur physically pinned him down to insert his keys into the lock. There was suddenly a loud explosion and the entire area flooded with blinding white light.

* * *

[1] Season 4 Episode 10: Herald A New Age

[2] Season 1 Episode 8: The Beginning of the End

[3] Season 1 Episode 4: The Poisoned Chalice

[4] Season 4 Episode 8: Lamia


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Yayyyy, Arthur and Merlin, finally together again. Ok I'm coming up on the end of this particular story soon. But I have some ideas for a sequel, if that generates enough interest.**

Arthur was flying. Well, flying through the air, as a projectile. And as all projectiles eventually do, he landed.

_Thud._

"OW!" Gwaine yelled out just before Arthur. Everywhere, leaves were falling—they had been blown right off their branches by the explosion of wind and light that had flown forth from Merlin. The birds were chirping en masse, filling the air with lyrical tunes the complemented the rustling of natural foliage. It was as if the forest had come to life.

"HOLY MOTHER OF-"Arthur was exclaiming from the impact. As he massaged his lower backside, a figure suddenly blocked out the light in front of him—slightly hunched over and walking with an awkward limp.

"Sorry…'bout that."

Arthur's head snapped up. "Merlin! Hah! You're alright?"

"MERLIN! MATE!" Gwaine had come bounding over, and soon had wrapped both Arthur and Merlin in a suffocating bear hug.

"I was…" Merlin squeezed out through his squished face.

"Can you walk?" Arthur asked. "We should put some distance between us and this place, you can fill us in on the details later."

Merlin shuddered a bit, "Not gonna argue with you there…but uh, about the walking…"

Gwaine was already draping one of Merlin's arms around his shoulder, "Arthur get his other side. Don't worry Merlin, we got you."

"Can't you like, use some magic, and just heal yourself?" Arthur asked.

"Ummm," Merlin was wincing a bit as the three began staggering together, "And deprive you of a chance to lose some weight? Doesn't seem right," but managed a laugh at Arthur's murderous look.

* * *

Morgana stumbled along at much too slow a pace for her comfort. Braches kept slapping her in the face as she went.

_Mordred? Are you there?_ She tried communicating, but there was nothing. As she ran, other concerns began to take shape in her mind, such as how she was going to explain herself to Morgause. She did the right thing though, that's what counted, right? If they had dragged Merlin back to the castle and started extracting magic from him, after everything he'd been through, she wasn't sure she'd have been able to stomach it. Still, she knew her sister was going to be disappointed, and she was scared that this was going to strain their fledgling love for each other.

_Morgana._ It was Morgause, she was standing a couple paces away, Cenred by her side. Morgana stopped dead in her tracks, heartbeat pounding at the speed of lightning.

"Sister…" Morgana took a tentative step, then suddenly felt the tenuous hold on her emotions break loose. Sobbing she ran forward and into Morgause's arms.

"What is it? What has gone wrong?" Morgause exclaimed in surprise.

"I…messed everything up. Merlin has escaped, and he's with Arthur now," Morgana confessed.

"Then we must get to them! Before Arthur makes it back to Camelot!" Cenred declared.

"No!" Morgana said, "We have to go get Mordred. He's…run off, to go kill Ramsay. He's not in his right state of mind. We have to help him."

"Then we'll lose the warlock," Cenred growled.

"Do not worry yourself," Morgause said to Cendred, "We've retrieved the crystals already. Once we have formed the amulets, it should be an easy task to lure the warlock outside of Camelot. Morgana, come with us back to Cenred's castle to prepare. Mordred will find his own way."

Morgana shook her head tearfully, "I won't leave him behind, sister."

Morgause sighed and placed her palm on Morgana's forehead. As a light emanated from her palm, Morgana's eyes closed and she fell forward. "Cenred, have your men put my sister in the carriage. She won't be waking up for a couple days."

* * *

"We'll rest here for the night, we left our horses at the last town, we can go get them in morning. Gwaine and I will alternate taking watch tonight." Arthur resumed a somewhat formal tone. Now that the rush of adrenaline from rescuing Merlin had died down, he was starting to feel awkward as he considered the multitude of events that had transpired over the last couple weeks—these were going to be tough conversations to breach.

Gwaine took a swig from his waterskin, "Hey Merlin, did you hear? I'm a knight of Camelot now. And Arthur's a king. Oh…and you're a powerful warlock, hah!"

Merlin looked at Arthur with pride. "That's great. That's…amazing." He was resting on a blanket propped up by a couple of bedrolls, watching Arthur build a fire. "I…um."

No one said anything for awhile. Sensing the tension, Gwaine stood up, "I need to go…to…relieve myself," and shuffled off. Arthur continued striking at the quartz pieces in his hands.

"Arthur…I-I feel like I owe you an apology…for not telling you about my…situation. I…" Merlin trailed off a bit. "I just…well I hope you know, hope you can believe that, I've only ever tried to be a loyal servant to the kingdom, to Camelot, to…you. I would never betray you-"

"Stop." Arthur stopped striking at the rocks and slowly turned around. Merlin gulped, scared of what Arthur was going to say. "You…shouldn't be apologizing." Arthur sighed. "Of course you wouldn't have told me, Merlin. I mean, look what my father did to you-" Arthur paused. "The point is Merlin, I trust you."

"You…trust me?"

"Well not to polish my armour correctly, make me breakfast on time, or organize my clothes, no."

Merlin grinned. The expression felt foreign to his facial muscles—it had been so long. His breath was still bit shaky from how nervous he'd felt. Obviously the eventual moment of magic revelation was always going to happen, but the build-up of small deceptions over time and passage of many major life events had slowly heightened his level of anxiety about the ultimate deed. "You came all this way, didn't you, just to get someone to wash your clothes. It's not that hard…"

Arthur grinned too, then got up and walked over to sit down next to Merlin. A small flame was crackling in the twigs. The boys sat quietly for awhile, peacefully. "But I do trust you with my life. And that is the only type of person who will be allowed on my High Council."

"You're…giving me a position in your High Council?" Merlin asked incredulously.

"I value your input. Especially now that I know the truth." Arthur looked off into the distance, "If I'm to rule this kingdom, and bring Camelot into a new age, I've got a lot to learn." He looked back at Merlin, "I've already learned some pretty important lessons about trustworthiness…as well as betrayal."

Arthur held his hand out, which Merlin took, reluctantly at first, "That means a lot to me," then he smiled as he shook Arthur's hand, "So does this mean I no longer have to polish your armour, make you your breakfast, or organize your clothes anymore?"

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Ronan ran forward and tried to squeeze his way to the front of the crowd. Everyone was gathered because the king was due to return from his celebratory hunt. He was small and skinny, so it was easy to find little nooks and crannies to slip through. Somewhere a horn-like instrument blew.

"King Arthur returns!" The crowd cheered. As the gates opened, Ronan saw two men gallop through. His mouth dropped open. It was Arthur and Gwaine. A third man was sitting on Arthur's horse, behind him—he seemed injured.

"Oh thank goodness," a girl to Ronan's right cried out. She had darker skin and curly black hair—one of the maids in the castle.

"Who's that?" Ronan asked.

"It's Merlin!" the girl replied. Ronan nodded, so that's who the physician had been inquiring about the other day. He decided to run back to the physician's chambers (where his bedroom was now), and tell him. Gaius, as the physician was called, had grown close with Ronan over the last couple days, and had earned his respect. It turns out Arthur and Gwaine were headed for the same place as Ronan, for as soon as Ronan had burst through the door and yelled, "Gaius!" the two knights appeared in the doorway, carrying Merlin in between them. Ronan turned around just in time to see Merlin's terrified looking face.

"No! It can't be, get away from me!" Merlin's eyes flashed gold and he pushed his palm out. Ronan felt his feet leave the floor as he flew into the air and hit the wall opposite the door.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Okay, so Merlin's on his way to recovery (with help from Morgana's healing magic) and Camelot's on its way to being a happy, magic land. Yay! I hope that comes through clearly.**

_CRACK!_

Merlin froze. What had he done? It looked like Ramsay, he could have sworn. He had seen a flash of curly brown hair and those evil green eyes.

"What in heavens?" Gaius had rushed in, and swooped over to the wall where a body lay crumpled. "Ronan? Are you ok?"

"I-I'm sorry," Merlin stuttered. Gaius spun around, and stared in amazement.

"Gaius…?" the boy mumbled weakly—he had brown eyes. Gaius shook his head, trying to snap out of his daze as he stared at Merlin in wonderment.

"Can someone help me get Ronan up to his bedroom? Merlin I'll be back with you in a minute." Merlin nodded mutely while Arthur and Gwaine helped him over.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"Is…is that boy going to be alright? I'm sorry Gaius," Merlin was laying on the cot while Gaius slowly cut the cast off.

"He's alright, don't worry. Just a small bump on the head, no broken bones even—some rest will do the trick. My word, did you receive medical care while you were imprisoned? These splints have been set expertly," Gaius marveled at the curiously superb treatments on Merlin's body.

Merlin grimaced, "Ramsay reset my bones, after he broke them."

Arthur stiffened, him and Gwaine hadn't broached the topic of what Merlin had been through on the road. They felt it best to stick to lighter topics and focus on getting home. But he had no doubt, Merlin had suffered unimaginable horror at the hands of that torturer. Throughout the trip back, Merlin seemed to alternate between joking and acting completely fine and shaking with hallucinations. It was bizarre.

"Arthur, Gwaine, if you don't mind, I think my patient needs some space and quiet. I'm sure you have many other matters to attend to at the moment anyhow," Gaius began ushering the two of them out the door.

"Wait, did you give Merlin's room away Gaius?!" Gwaine was exclaiming as he stepped through the doorway.

"Well, he'll be getting new quarters anyhow, now that he's going to be the Court Sorcerer." Gaius heard Arthur say on the other side of the closed door.

Gaius walked back into the room. Merlin sat there looking at him, still seeming apprehensive. "Oh Merlin," Gaius wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him tightly, "I'm so sorry…for everything. I can't imagine what you've been through."

Merlin allowed himself to be embraced, and gently put his good arm around Gaius. "It's alright, I'm okay now."

Gaius pushed himself back, "Are you? Are you ok?"

Merlin grimaced again, "Not entirely. It's been…strange." Shifting a little, "It's like someone used magic to heal me, but not completely. At moments I feel completely lucid, stronger than before even, at other times I feel remnants of Fomorrah Blood poisoning my mind, coursing through my veins."

Gaius nodded, frowning, "Does Ramsay have magic?"

Merlin shook his head, "It didn't seem like it." Curly, black hair and moonlight-colored eyes flashed across his mind for a moment.

"I've got a couple of cleansing spells I can dig up, but I don't have the power to carry them through. Do you think you can manage trying a couple?"

"During my lucid moments, sure. Let me take a look."

* * *

Arthur headed straight for his father's room, his uncle was waiting for him there. "How is my father?"

Agravaine stood up to welcome Arthur into the room, but was practically ignored as Arthur strode over to Uther's side. "He is the same, I'm afraid, catatonic—and it's not likely to change any time soon. His eyes are able to open and close, but not much else."

Arthur held his father's hands in his own, "Father, you don't need to worry. I've stepped up to the challenge and taken my place as king of Camelot. I will not disappoint you."

Gwaine was still sidling about at the edge of the door. Agravaine spotted him and gave him a dirty look, "Who is this?"

Arthur didn't divert his gaze and continued to stare intently into his father's blank eyes, "I will not disappoint you, father, I will build a newer, better Camelot." Turning to face Gwaine, his face shifted from its grim expression into a more hopeful smile. "Starting today."

* * *

Morgana was staring sullenly at her plate of food.

"Sister, you must eat. Gather your strength, we much work to do!" Morgause counseled.

Morgana tried to smile at her, "I'm not hungry."

"I wouldn't be hungry either, if I'd just made a dumb mistake and let an important asset escape," Cenred snorted. Morgause's eyes flashed yellow and a fork embedded itself in Cenred's thigh, "AHHHHHHHHHH."

The doors to the dining hall opened and young guard ran through. He looked like he was about to report something but was unsure of how to react to the scene before him—his king clutching at a bloody thigh and two witches sitting at the table eating dinner calmly. "Um…"

"What is it boy? Speak," Morgause said sharply.

"One of the sorcerers, the one who went missing, he's at the front door. He-"

Morgana didn't wait for him to finish, she had already jumped out of her seat and began dashing through the halls. "Mordred?!"

The doors to the great hall were wide open, banging back and forth. It was storming outside, and the torrents of rain were spattering all over the floor through the opening. Standing in the center of the doorway, was in fact, Mordred. He had not made any movement to come inside and no light could reach his face, creating a dark silhouette in the doorway. Morgana squinted her eyes and advanced more slowly.

"Mordred!" Morgause's voice rang out from the end of the hallway. Mordred lifted his head a little, making Morgana gasp. His face was streaked with blood, particularly in the mouth region. He smiled, revealing a set of bloody teeth.

"Mordred?" Morgana called out hesitantly. The boy looked different, older. It was as if in the last couple of weeks he had aged ten years.

Morgause had walked over now, and marveled at Mordred, "The power I feel! Mordred, have you been practicing the Old Religion?"

Mordred stopped smiling abruptly, and closed his mouth. Looking at Morgana, he rasped, "I did it Morgana. I killed Ramsay. He's dead."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N Okay, here it is, the resolution of this story (I hope that your questions were resolved). I had a great deal of fun writing this, and was happy that everyone enjoyed it. I have already written the first chapter of my sequel, which will take place chronologically a couple of weeks after the events of this chapter. I'll probably also try to explain more about what happened in some of the gaps that occurred in this story, through flashbacks. The epilogue is rated T, so don't read it if you don't feel that it's suitable for you. I basically just talk about Mordred's memories (related to Ramsay).**

**AGAIN, THANK YOU TO EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO COMMENTED, FAVORITED, FOLLOWED, AND/OR READ THIS STORY. :)**

The throne room was bathed in a shower of golden light. Arthur sat on the throne, decked in royal red coronation garb. Next to him was Guinevere, swathed in velvet greens, now the Queen of Camelot. All of the royal court had gathered to witness the momentous event that was about to occur—many citizens from the Lower Town [1] were also milling about at the edges of the door, hoping to get a look.

"This court calls forth Merlin," Geoffrey of Monmouth stood slightly in front of Arthur, unrolling a scroll. Merlin, greatly recovered at this point, but still walking with a slight limp, stepped forward, wearing deep purple robes specially made for him by the court tailor. He scanned crowds for Gwaine—who was standing close to Lancelot and some of the other new knights, exchanging foxy looks with some of the maids in the corner—he flashed Merlin a wide smile and winked. Ronan was also standing close by, eyes roving about the room, dazzled by the decadence—when his eyes caught Merlin he gave a small nod. Agravaine came forth and ushered Merlin over to Geoffrey, none too gently.

"Today marks the day, henceforth with which shall be known…" Geoffrey began to drone on and on, reciting various revisions Arthur and his court had drafted out to be instituted step-by-step over the next couple of years, as well as the justifications for these changes, and the new duties that Merlin was going to be responsible for. After what seemed like forever, Geoffrey reached his closing sentence, which was followed by a ceremonious uproar, "And thus, magic shall reign free once again, in this great land of Albion!"

* * *

**Epilogue (rating T)**

Mordred sat on his bed, not moving. People kept moving about him, scurrying around like rats. They had managed to get him into a shower, clean him up, and put him in fresh clothes. Morgana stopped in a various times and tried to talk to him, but didn't get any response. She helped him lay down on the bed and then lay next to him, staring curiously at his blank face. Eventually she fell asleep. Mordred's mind was somewhere else entirely, he was too busy replaying the events of the past week in his head—the glorious moment when he'd finished the forty day incantation.

_"A fellow practitioner of the Mortaeus tree magic!" Ramsay walked over, the air around him darker than everywhere else._

_"Do you remember me, Ramsay?" Mordred scowled._

_"I'm sorry, I can't say I recall."_

_"WELL I REMEMBER YOU…I'll never forget the face of the man who murdered my mother."_

_"You'll have to be a bit more specific, I'm afraid."_

_"GYAAAAAA!" Mordred's eyes flashed black and his new magic flew out from him like a thousand knives. Ramsay fell onto the ground, his arms and legs having been hacked off by the sharp blades. But he was laughing, maniacally, as if the loss of his limbs were inconsequential._

_"I remember now, you have her pathetic eyes, and that same pitiful howl. That old witch I killed right before Alined dismissed me."_

_Boiling with fury, Mordred screeched like a rabid animal and struck his clawed hand into Ramsay's chest, "Let's see if there's a heart in there, or just a gaping hole." Clenching his fingers around a grape-fruit sized mass, Mordred ripped the organ right out of Ramsay's chest. Blood began dripping down Mordred's arm as the heart continued to pump, unaware that it had been disconnected from its owner. Ramsay did not cry out, strangely, though he stopped laughing. It wasn't until Mordred bit down into the organ in his hand, and began ripping it to shreds with his teeth, that Ramsay began shrieking in pain. Black steam rose up from his body and soon filled the air. The noises bounced off the cave walls such that long after the screams had stopped, ghostly echoes kept reverberating through the air, continuing the never-ending screams._

Turning over a bit in the bed, Mordred put his arm around Morgana, who stirred lightly in her sleep. The corner of his mouth curled upwards, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

* * *

[1] Season 3 Episode 8: The Eye of the Phoenix and many other episodes


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N This is a preview for my sequel, I am probably going to make that story a rating of T, so you have been warned. I thought I'd put in this teaser since my ending was a bit short. Hope you like it! :)**

_"__I told you not to disappoint me."_

_Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. He was completely vulnerable: sitting on a dungeon floor, arms chained above him to a ring in the wall, legs bound in irons chain to a ring on the floor, blindfolded, gagged with a belt, magic-suppressed. He had been tortured by a madman named Ramsay over the last week, who wanted Merlin to cast spells that allowed him to kill and hunt better._

_"__Is Arthur your former master?" Ramsay crouched down and gripped Merlin's chin tightly. He tried to turn his face away but couldn't release himself from Ramsay's grip. "I'm your master now. I think you need to be given a little reminder." Ramsay leaned his face against Merlin's cheek and stroked it a bit, before whispering, "I think I'll go kill him."_

_Merlin struggled as much as he could against his bonds, tugging at the rings bolted into the concrete. He felt incredibly frustrated, unable to use his powerful magic, unable to protect anyone, not even himself._

Rnnnghf!_ He cried out as he felt a hard kick to the ribs._

_"__Tell you what Merlin, I'm in a good mood today, and I feel like being entertained," Ramsay tugged the blindfold down. Merlin's eyes were bloodshot and moist—he saw everything through a blurry haze due to how tight the blindfold had been cinched around his head. Ramsay went to a table outside the cell, and came back carrying a sinister-looking contraption made out of snake-skin. It looked like a helmet of sorts, composed of various loops and straps that buckled around the head and chin. Ramsay held it up to Merlin's face._

_"__I'm told this was an instrument of torture, created by High Priestesses from the skins of a Nathair [1] snake." Ramsay pointed at some etchings carved into the skin, "Now I'm going to need your help on this. I'm told that the most powerful warlocks can perform this incantation without even saying the words out loud, and I know you are that powerful, if not more." Ramsay clapped Merlin's shoulder, almost pridefully. Leaning in close to Merlin's ear, he whispered, "Perform the incantation. Say the words in your head."_

_It was not a request. Merlin knew where this was going, and looked back and forth between the torture device and Ramsay despairingly. Ramsay's nostrils began to flare as he saw Merlin hesitate. His eyes narrowed. _

_"__I will find Arthur, and kill him. I am a VERY good hunter," Ramsay growled._

_Not wanting to upset the madman any further, Merlin shifted his eyes to the incantation on the Nathair skin and began saying it in his head. Small flashes of his buried magic shot forth but Merlin could not grasp onto them. Fearfully, he began to imagine a series of gruesome scenarios in which Ramsay captured and killed Arthur, inciting him to persist forth with greater intensity. Finally, his pupils lit up with a faint gold glimmer, and the etchings on the Nathair skin began to glow—Merlin felt a dark force sucking the magic out of his eyes and into the helmet. _

_"__Good!" Ramsay praised, tone now cheerful again as he watched the snake-skin glow bright white, then slowly fade. "Now, I hope you'll reward my magnanimity," he began strapping the contraption around Merlin's head, "—in giving you this minor punishment, which won't even create any lasting physical damage, instead of killing Arthur—and you'll thus not disappoint me, again."_

_Merlin's breathing began to come in short, panicked bursts. His chains clanked as he struggled weakly against them, unable to break away from this unending nightmare. Distantly, he heard himself gurgling and pleading through the gag. Ramsay ignored this and slowly checked all the buckles on the helmet, making sure everything was strapped down nice and tight. Once he was sure that there was no slack, he stood up to go get a bowl of Fomorrah blood from the table. Coming back in, he crouched down and smiled as he stared at Merlin's terrified eyes, drinking in the delicious fear. Dipping one finger in, he took the inky, black liquid and touched it to a triangle etched on the portion of belt strapped across Merlin's forehead, pressing down. In an instant, Merlin's world was flooded with blinding white agony, worse than anything he'd ever felt before in his life, unbearable. It was like he was being struck with lightning, jolts of electrifying pain coursing through his body up and down, over and over. As all the muscles in his body tensed up, his midsection lifted off the ground, held back only by his restrained limbs. Suddenly it was over—Ramsay had removed his finger, and was smiling widely, almost giddily, at Merlin, obviously entertained by the suffering he had witnessed._

_"__Arthur's not your master anymore, he doesn't want you. He told me to do this to you," Ramsay taunted. Merlin hung limp in his chains, unresponsive. "Stop being loyal to him, stop resisting me, serve me, I am your new master." Ramsay gripped Merlin's chin with one hand, and held the other hand, the one with the blood-stained finger, close to Merlin's forehead, threateningly._

_As terrified as Merlin was, he refused to cede this last part of his dignity to his torturer. He felt like he was going to die soon anyway. He glared into Ramsay's eyes defiantly. _Never, _his eyes said_. _Ramsay's face darkened. "I told you not to disappoint me," he pushed his finger to Merlin's forehead again and watched the boy writhe in pain and yelp pitifully like an injured dog, "But you provide entertainment."_

Merlin woke up with a shout. His bedsheets were drenched in sweat and he had managed to get tangled up in them. Dim gray lighting of the early morning dawn filled the room, casting shadows along the contours of the bedding. Someone was knocking at the door.

"Sire? Is everything alright?"

Merlin took in a large breath in and held it for a couple seconds, before exhaling it slowly. "It's fine, I'm alright." Clanking metal footsteps slowly receded from the door to Merlin's chambers. His new title as Court Sorcerer had certainly come with its share of benefits, such as swanky chambers and a large increase in salary. Personally, he missed his little room at the top of Gaius's chambers, but that was now occupied by Arthur's new squire, a boy named Ronan.

"MY LORD!" the doors burst open. Merlin groaned—it was George. Arthur had assigned George to be Merlin's personal manservant, probably as a joke, because he had become more like Merlin's personal stalker. It seemed like every time Merlin turned the corner George was standing there, asking if Merlin needed more food or clothes that needed tailoring. "My lord! I heard that there was a disturbance in your room, and I came as soon as possible. How may I be of assistance?"

"I'm not a lord," Merlin muttered sleepily, "and I'll be fine. There was no disturbance, really."

George clapped his hands and a couple servants came in carrying towels, a water basin, and…were those flower petals?! "You two, go get a fire started," George gestured at two of the boys.

"I…can get ready myself George, I've been telling you…" Merlin mumbled half-heartedly, trailing off as he saw one of the servants sprinkle petals into the wash basin. "Erm…"

"The physician has informed us that these petals have excellent calming effects and should be helpful when used long-term for your recent night terrors."

"Oh. Great." _It'll also be helpful for Arthur, who always needs more reasons to call me a girl._ Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled, thankful to be back in the waking world, where he was serving his best friend, Arthur, the once and future king, and no longer at the hands of a psychopath torturer. Rolling off the bed, he started get ready for the day.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"Come in!" Gaius answered when he heard a knock on the door. Looking at Ronan, "You better finish that quickly."

The boy made a face but quickly began shoveling the porridge down. Gaius turned around to see Merlin step in, who seemed to hover hesitantly at the door, "Oh…you're still having breakfast, I can come back."

"No, no, that's fine. I have more time to talk now than later actually. In the afternoon I will be going to the Lower Town." Gaius ushered Merlin towards the table, and had him sit down next to Ronan, who scooted away.

"Wow, I don't remember Gaius's food being _that_ appetizing," Merlin joked as he watched Ronan inhale the food before him.

Ronan shrugged, "I don't want to be late." As he slurped up the last little morsels, he jumped up and headed for the door.

"Don't forget to pick me up some of those herbs I asked for when you finish on the training field!" Gaius reminded.

Merlin felt a small twinge of nostalgia mixed with a hint of jealousy, as he recalled that these tasks used to fall under his domain. "How's he doing?"

"Quite well actually, not as talkative as you were," Gaius smiled. "He's slow to warm up." Merlin nodded and looked around the room for awhile as Gaius sat down to eat his breakfast. "How has your sleeping been?"

Merlin sighed, "It's strange. I had a remarkable recovery after the first couple weeks, but then things got worse for a while."

Gaius chewed thoughtfully, "That makes sense, your initial recovery could have been more adrenaline-related, and after it wore off your body had to climb itself out of a vastly weakened state. Your body as well as your mind."

Merlin nodded, "It was more than adrenaline though, it felt like, external help…magical healing, almost."

"You think another sorcerer may have assisted in your escape? Why didn't they come forth as your savior then?"

"Not sure…but I think much of their magic was healing me in those first couple weeks. Also, I think that there have been unintended side effects."

"Side effects? Like what?"

"Well, I think sometimes I see flashes, memories, except they're not my memories, they're somebody else's."

"Oh? Well, that could potentially provide clues to who saved you."

"Maybe," Merlin rubbed his chin as an underlying suspicion crossed his mind. He didn't say it out loud, because the thought seemed preposterous, but a small part of him wondered. "Well I've got to get going, I have a big meeting with some of the councilors today," Merlin got up and walked towards the door—images of purple violets, sunshine, and billowing black hair running through his head.

* * *

"Speak directly Morgana, what is it you want to know?"

Morgana quelled the sense of revulsion she felt as she regarded the shriveled old creature before her. It was the Dochraid. "I want to know more information about this particular type of magic. The scroll doesn't elaborate about the mental stability."

"It is a very dark and twisted enchantment, once derived from a purer powerful spell. The original spell has become lost to this world, after Uther's Purge, but this dark version survived." The Dochraid bared her teeth in what seemed to be an attempt at a smile, "For those who are ruthless enough, the enchantment has many shortcuts that allow the practitioner to quickly increase their power level. For example, one of these shortcuts is to kill and drink the blood of other sorcerers who have also practiced the incantation for forty days."

Morgana shuddered internally, "I see."

"This method not only combines the powers of both sorcerers into one body, but melds the souls and memories of both people. It creates…a new and different person. As you might imagine, this bodes ill for mental stability..."

"That's enough!" Morgana caught herself before her outburst got out of control, "Thank you. I'll be on my way." The Dochraid bowed and disappeared into the shadows. Morgana, heart plagued with worry, crossed her arms and strode briskly out of the cave, back towards Cendred's castle, where Morgause and Mordred were discussing the plans for luring Merlin into a trap.

[1] Season 4 Episode 13: The Sword in the Stone


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